The Friend Zone
by Anonymous Void
Summary: It's not as if it's a real place, right?
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: It's 2015 and starting it off with another South Park fanfic. Kinda like the previous, going to be short, but I'm trying to keep it like it was an episode. Now, I've written most of this story out already, so this isn't going to be like _General Zod Goes to Washington_. By that, I mean it's not going to take a whole year to do five chapters. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.

Warning: language

_You unlock this door with the key of rejection. Beyond it is another dimension: a dimension of frustration, a dimension of agony, a dimension of blue balls. You're moving into a land of both shadow and misfortune, of fear and despair; you've just crossed over into the Friend Zone._

Chapter 1

The bell that rang for lunch had long since passed and at a certain lunch table in a certain elementary school held a few certain boys that were currently discussing perhaps one of the most confounding issues of their time.

"Hey guys, you hear about what happened at that Kanye West concert?" a somewhat fat ten year old in a red jacket and yellow poof ball hat asked as he chowed down on enough cafeteria food that could feed an entire African village for a week. Bits of Salisbury steak escaped his mouth as he spoke, hardly pausing in his consumption. "It was so freaking hilarious. I had to TiVo it just to see it again!"

"Dude, that's not right," Stan, a boy in a brown jacket and red poof ball hat, answered, eating much less than his obese friend.

"Would you mind not talking and eating at the same time?" Kyle, an irritated boy in an orange coat and wearing a green ushanka, demanded. He was wiping off a piece of spit-covered Salisbury steak from his cheek.

"Oh, I'm sorry Kyle," the fat boy drawled. "Are you too high and mighty to take some cafeteria lunch food to the face?"

"It's disgusting Cartman. Even kindergartners know to eat with their mouths closed," Kyle snapped back.

The rest of the table ignored the impending argument.

"Yeah, that really wasn't really cool of Kanye to do that," Stan continued the previous, and more interesting conversation, his attention on the other boys at the table.

"Y-y-yeah, it was very in-insensitive," a browned haired boy stuttered over his words. Jimmy was his name and he'd insert a clever joke right there if he wasn't too busy with lunch. "Those poor people di-di-didn't even have any arms."

"And he wouldn't start singing until everyone in the room raised their arms in the air like they just don't care," added a boy in a blue jacket and chullo in the blandest voice you've ever heard.

One boy, a blond with the most innocent and bully-worthy smile, asked, "Well I'm sure it was a misunderstanding. They were probably too far in the back for poor Kayne to see."

"Butters, they were in the front row," the boy in the brown jacket stated.

"Oh. Huh." Butters looked unable to refute that.

Before Butters could continue to make a fool out of himself further, a depressed looking Token approached the table. The only black male in the school did not make eye contact with anyone, picking an empty seat at the end of the table where he set his lunch tray down. He took his seat and continued to look downward, not doing anything like, you know, eating.

It was such a stark contrast from the usually friendly guy the other boys knew that even Cartman was silent, though he continued to stuff his face. Looks were traded amongst the boys, all agreeing on one thing: something was up. However, they weren't girls so that made it a problem on figuring out what was going on.

Guys weren't supposed to be all chatty like those girls. Especially about feelings.

Thus, the boy closest to his feminine side was selected using only eye contact with the other boys.

"What's up, Token?" Stan asked.

Token sighed. "Nothing."

Again the other others shared a look amongst themselves. Bullshit was the general consensus.

"You haven't touched your Salisbury steak," Stan tried again.

"Yeah, if you're not going to eat it, let me have it," Cartman spoke up.

The fat boy got an irritated look from Kyle but everyone else ignored him. Token, did not respond however, only shifting in his seat and sighing again.

Okay, they were officially running out of ways to get Token talking. Asking what was up didn't work, mentioning food did nothing, so what clever, sly thing could be used next to get their only African American friend to talk?

"How's things with Nicole?" Stan asked. They were desperate if they were using that line of questioning. If small talk and food didn't get a guy talking, asking about their bitch—ahem, girlfriend was the last resort. Come on Token, respond to this one! Guy code was requiring them at this point to rip you a new one!

"Nicole and I aren't together anymore," Token stated, still not looking any of them in the eye.

Oh, so Token had broken up with his girlfriend. Now they were gettting—hold on, what?

The only one to do a spittake was Cartman, mainly due to him being the only one eating. This time, even Kyle ignored him as this new piece of juicy guy gossip was just too interesting to look away from.

"That sucks," the boy in the blue chullo commented.

"That's too bad," Butter added, reaching out a hand to pat Token on the shoulder. "There, there, little buddy."

"What happened?" Clyde, a boy with messy, brown hair and a red jacket, asked.

"She said that she wanted to take a break but that she wanted to stay friends." If anything, Token looked even more depressed than before.

The whole table was quiet, at least until one of the boys snorted and began to snicker at the black kid's misfortune. "Oh god, this is too rich!" Cartman laughed.

"What's so funny?" Kyle demanded, glaring at the other, fatter boy.

"Token got friend zoned! I can't believe it! What, you don't got enough money or something?" Cartman continued to cackle. "Oh, I've got to blog about this!"

"Shut up, fat ass," Kyle growled though it was his turn to be ignored.

"What's does friend zoned mean?" Butters asked, wide-eyed.

"Just ignore him Butters," Kyle advised the innocent blond boy.

"Butters, you need to keep up with the times, brah," Cartman spoke over his Jewish adversary. "Being friend zoned is the worst thing that can ever happen to a guy. It's like getting your balls cut off, it's that bad. You might as well give up your man card."

"Oh no!" Butters gasped.

"You're sc-sc-scaring him, Eric," Jimmy spoke up.

"Yeah, Butters isn't ready to hear about this," Stan said.

"Guys, you can't treat Butters here with a pair of kid gloves about this kind of thing," Cartman lectured. "He's old enough to hear about it and get the pissed scared out of him like everybody else."

"Yeah!" Butters agreed.

"Just leave it alone, Butters," the boy in the blue chullo hat stated. "Some things aren't meant to be known."

"Ignore Craig," Cartman told Butters. "He's just being a Negative Nancy. Now, being friend zoned is when you ask a girl out and she shoots you down by saying she would rather be friends with you instead. It's a girl's twisted way of telling you she thinks you're ugly and doesn't want anything to do with you. Once that happens, you are officially in the Friend Zone, a place from which there is no escape!"

"Oh hamburgers!" Butters was horrified, it was obvious to tell.

"If there's anyone to ignore around here, it's Cartman, Butters," Stan said. "He's pulling your leg."

"Oh, I see what this is. It's a conspiracy and you're all in on it!" Cartman accused.

"Eric is j-j-just making a joke," Jimmy continued. "Not a really f-f-f-funny joke but a-a-a joke all the s-same."

"Oh. Well, it wasn't a funny joke." Butters frowned.

"Ey! You'll believe Jimmy but you won't believe me?" Cartman demanded, slamming his hands on the table and glaring at the innocent blond.

"The way you tell it, the friend zone's a real place which it isn't," Craig said, not looking up from his lunch.

"You know what? Screw you guys, I'mma eating elsewhere." With that, Cartman snatched up his lunch trey and stormed off.

Okay, now that the asshole was gone, it was back to what they were supposed to be doing. ….what were they doing again? Oh right, Token and…being friend zoned. That fun stuff. Right.

"You should give Nicole a few days. She should come around and you'll be together again," Clyde advised.

"Yeah, and don't go to her house and play her Peter Gabriel. That shit doesn't work in real life," Stan added.

Kyle paused and looked up from his lunch, giving Stan an odd look.

Token, on the other hand, only sighed but he nodded. A sign of progress if the boys ever saw one. So back to more important things now. When Token was feeling better and back with Nicole, they'd rip on him for being such a pussy. Until then, it was all being understanding and shit.

"So you guys think the Broncos will make it to the Superbowl this year?" Stan asked, starting a new topic.

"12-4, they're doing good," Craig answered.

Despite the change in topic, Butters remained the only boy there with a disturbed look. Kyle was the only one to notice it.

* * *

><p>As he stood before his locker, Butters could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Gosh, was he nervous. All that talk from lunch was getting to him. He hadn't heard about the friend zone before and boy did it sound scary. Kinda made him want to…no, no, no thinking like that Butters! You're a man, ya hear?<p>

Yes, he was a big strong man…with a crush on a girl. No, it wasn't some girl from the internet, or the picture of Kim in his locker, it was a real-life girl in this very school! His parents were going to be so proud! Him getting himself a girlfriend, an honest to god girlfriend with skin and blood and hair and all that stuff!

It's a girl's twisted way of telling you she thinks you're ugly and doesn't want anything to do with you.

Eric's words from lunch were still bothering him, and in more than one way. While spooky sounding, all the talk about the friend zone had shown him a possibility that he hadn't considered yet. What if when he went up to his crush and asked her to go out with him, she said no? He hadn't considered that happening and seeing how bummed out Token was at lunch, it made him a little bit scared.

Could he go through with this now? He wasn't sure if he could. Maybe he should just stick with Kim. At least she wouldn't turn him down even though she was married to a black rapper.

"Hey Butters."

Butters gave out a cry and almost jumped. Spinning around, his heart slamming against his ribcage for sure this time, he felt some relief when he saw it was only Kyle and not…well, you know, the girl he was crushing on.

Wait, what was Kyle doing sneaking up on him?

"You okay, dude?" the boy in the green ushanka asked. "You didn't look well at lunch. Is something wrong?"

Oh. Oh, he was worried about him. Well, golly, he didn't mean to get people worried about him or anything. "It's nothing," Butters answered, not wanting to make Kyle go out of his way or anything. His problems shouldn't involve other people if only because it may trouble them or something like that.

"Is it what Cartman said at lunch?" Wow, Kyle wasn't holding back, was he?

"A little bit." He looked down at the floor, not wanting to see anything like disappointment from Kyle.

"Ignore what that asshole says," Kyle told him. "Half the stuff he says is a load of bunk. He was just trying to scare you."

"I know. But whenever he's talking, he makes it sound like he knows what he's talking about."

"That's how that tubby piece of lard is. You can't believe everything he says." Kyle's words were biting, as if they could hurt someone if they were, you know, real. "It's not as if the friend zone is a real place."

"You're right. I shouldn't believe all that scary stuff." It was really nice being able to talk this stuff out with someone. He was feeling better already. "Thanks Kyle, you're a real pal."

"There's nothing to be afriad of Butters so go out there and talk to that girl you like," Kyle said, giving an encouraging smile.

The world came to a stop and Butters felt as if his heart was made of lead. "Who told you I liked anybody!" he cried out, quickly covering his mouth and looking side to side to see if anyone had overheard him. The last thing he needed was for anybody out there to know he had a crush on somebody!

"No one. I kinda guessed," Kyle told him, shrugging. "It's not that big a deal. Just go and talk with her."

All the nervousness and all the doubts from before made a comeback and suddenly, Butters wasn't so sure anymore. It was one thing when he knew he was the only person who knew about him, gulp, liking someone else but it was another thing if someone else also knew about it. Suddenly, rejection seemed like a big possibility, no, the only possibility. Oh hamburgers, what was he going to do?

"No! No, I can't!" Butters tried to make his escape, but Kyle held him by the shoulder, stopping him.

"What's the problem Butters?" Kyle asked, that worried tone in his voice.

"It's…it's nothing! I'm just going to keep my mouth shut. That's what I'm going to do." He spoke fast, his words almost running into one another.

"Hey, hey, don't be like that." Kyle turned him so that he was looking the Jewish boy in the eye, or he would be if he wasn't looking down at the floor and those were some nice shoes Kyle was wearing. Where'd he get them from? "Butters, look at me."

It took some effort, but the blond boy managed to lift his eyes and make contact with the more confident Jew.

"You're a nice guy, Butters," Kyle told him. "Girls would have to be crazy to not like nice guys."

"B-but don't nice guys always finish last?" Butters stumbled over his own words.

"That's another load of bunk. Girls, they like stability, even if they don't know it. They like guys who are senstitive and will be there for him. You, Butters, are all of those things," Kyle continued with his pep talk. "You are nice. You are sensititve. And you are always there for your friends. You are a very stable and responsible person. What's not to like about that? The only thing you're missing is confidence.

"Just do this. When you go up to her, look her in the eye and say without a hint of hesitation that you like her and would she like to go out with you. Heck, ask if she wants to see a movie with you. That's a safe thing right there. Don't show that you're nervous. They pick up on that."

The more Kyle spoke, the more Butters thought about it. Wow, Kyle really knew how to do this kind of thing, didn't he? In fact, Butters felt like he could go up to her today and ask her out. That would be great, wouldn't it?

"So I need to be confident?" he asked hopefully.

"It doesn't hurt, Butters. Trust me." Maybe there was something to that confidence thing. Kyle looked all confident right now and Butters was believing everything that he was saying. Yeah, yeah, there was something to it after all.

"Thanks, Kyle. You know what? I'm going to go talk with her right now," he stated, squaring his shoulders like a man about to go into battle.

"Do it, Butters, and remember: confidence," Kyle instructed as he removed his hands, as if he was setting a lean, not-so-mean, Butters machine on the world. That didn't sound so bad there.

It was time for his date with destiny at long last.

* * *

><p>As he watched Butters head off, Kyle was feeling pretty inspired right about now.<p>

As shy as Butters was, if he could get the guts to confess to a girl, that meant that he himself could do that same thing. And you know what? He had a girl in mind already.

Nicole was recently separated with Token. So while it would be a dick move, Kyle was going to be smart about this. He wasn't going to go outright and ask her to be his girl. He was going to use some finesse, get closer to her, and if he was lucky, have a successful date with her.

It seemed like love was going to be in the air tonight and the Jewish boy was no exception to it.

* * *

><p>It took some time but he found her. Butters was almost feeling giddy with excitement here. His heart was beating but it wasn't because he was nervous. No, it was with confidence. And with that confidence, he was going to get himself a girlfriend.<p>

No longer was he going to be Butters, that guy without a girlfriend. No, from now on he was going to be Butters…that guy with a girlfriend. Hmm, needed some work but that could be done later. When he had a girlfriend.

She was just ahead with her curly blonde hair, minding her own business and doing girl stuff. At least he thought it was girl stuff. Couldn't really say what girl stuff was but that was beside the point.

Annie was just standing, his for the taking. Time to put that confidence thing Kyle had told him about to work and see if he could finally upgrade his Facebook relationship status from single to…the opposite of single. Not married, or engage, or things' complicated.

Remember, Butters, confidence.

"Hey Annie," he greeted as he came up to her. "How ya doing?"

Yeah, good start, Butters.

"Hey Butters," Annie greeted back, smile on her face, just as Butters always imagined her to be like. It was like she was waiting for this moment, for him to come clean. There really was something to being confident! "I'm good."

"Say Annie, there's something I need to tell you." This was it. He was at the moment of truth. He was about to lay it all on the line.

"Sure. What is it?" Annie asked.

"Well, I just wanted to say that for a while now, that is if you would um-um-um, I mean, I-I-I la-la-la-la—" oh wow, this was harder to do that he thought. Darn it Butters! Be confident already! "—um-um-WOULD YOU GO OUT WITH ME?!"

He nearly screamed that in her face but he got it out. Amazing job there Butters! Way to go! You did it! He always knew he had it in him! Sure it was tough going there for a bit but gosh darn it, he had pulled it off. Thank you, Kyle. You're a true pal.

"Oh, that's very nice of you," Annie said and he was hanging off her every word. Any second now, he was going to hear a yes, he was sure of it. "I'm flattered, really." She was flattered! Oh boy, he had never gotten this far in his imagination! "It's nice that you think of me that way." Uh huh, go on. "But I think it best if we remain friends." Here we go, here we—what?

The whole world seemed to freeze then, the back ground pulling away while all focus zoomed in on his face. "Huh?" he voiced out, his poor brain not really grasping what her last words had been.

"I think it would be best if we stayed friends. I wouldn't want to ruin the friendship we have," Annie continued. "But it was sweet of you to ask. It's just, I don't think I'm the girl for you."

He was starting to wish that a hole would open up and swallow him whole.

"Besides, there's a guy I like already," Annie admitted, her checks blushing lightly as she looked away. "He's a strong, silent type." No. "Doesn't say anything but that makes him so mysterious." This wasn't going where he thought it was going. "Plus he saved me a while back from some girls picking on me." Oh God, it was. "I also think he likes me back…though I'm not really sure what his name is. Butters? You don't think his name is really Douchebag, right?"

Douchebag.

Gosh darn it.

Eric was right. Eric had always been right. On both things. That being friend zoned was the worst thing that could ever happen to a guy. And Douchebag was a total douchebag.

"I'm sorry…Annie. I don't…really know," he told her, his own words breaking apart from the hurt he was feeling.

"Oh. Well. It was nice talking with you Butters," Annie said. "I need to be going to class. I'll talk with you later."

He barely noticed that she had left. All he could do was stand there and stare off into space. He knew now what it was that Token was feeling. The crushing despair, the hopelessness, the depression… It was so…so…overwhelming.

Everything he knew, everything he thought he was, it was all falling apart. Who was Butters? Oh, he was just that guy without a girlfriend. A loser. Nobody could ever like him. Nobody could ever like him in the way he wanted to be liked.

There was no question that he was now in the friend zone.

* * *

><p>It had taken a bit but Kyle had finally tracked her down. There she was, chatting with some of the other girls. Talking about girl stuff, whatever girl stuff was. He needed to wait for an opportunity to present itself where she was isolated and not backed up by her girls.<p>

That way she would be more vulnerable. And maybe more willing to say yes to anything he asked. Yes, he had spent a lot of time doing research on how to ask a girl out. So sue him. One of the many things he learned through movies and the internet had to be right.

He could feel his heart speeding up with anticipation as he bided his time. By that, he meant keeping an eye on Nicole and out for any of the guys. This would be more nerve-wrecking if any of the guys were around to see him do this. Unlike Butters who wore his heart on his sleeve, Kyle was much more cautious though not by much. He was always willing to put himself out there and make his opinions known. However there were always those times—hold up, she had left the herd.

It was time.

He made after her, walking down the school hallway as if he had every right to be there. Nothing to see here, just another kid heading to class like everybody else. Okay, he was closing in on her. A couple more seconds, he would be making contact. One more second…

"Hey Nicole. What's up?" Yep, start casual and work your way there…

"Hey Kyle. Nothing much," the African American girl answered.

"How are things?" Keep it casual, Kyle, you can do this.

"Okay, I guess," Nicole shrugged.

Not even mentioning the separation, huh. Made things a little harder but it was still doable. "I saw Token a while ago. Did he tell you about anything that might be going on with him?"

"Token? Oh yeah, we're…we're kinda taking a break from one another. Try out new things," Nicole told him. Oh yes, he was almost there. "Things were kinda getting, I don't know…"

"Monotonous?" he suggested.

"Yeah, that," she agreed. "Sometimes you need to do things differently for a bit."

"Uh huh," he nodded, listening to her.

"You don't think there's something wrong with that, right?" she asked him, concern in her eyes. "I mean, I didn't want to hurt Token or anything."

"I understand," he said. "Doing the same thing over and over can get boring after a bit. Believe me, once you're done something for the hundredth time, you try to do anything to change things up a bit."

"You really do…" she marveled. Kyle couldn't help but swell with pride at that. "You're such a good friend, Kyle."

He was in and now he needed to—wait, what?

The whole world seemed to freeze then, the back ground pulling away while all focus zoomed in on his face.

"I'm glad that we can talk like this with one another," Nicole was speaking again. "There's somethings a girl can't tell her girlfriends, things that only guys will get. Not that I'm saying there's something wrong with the other girls but there are things that guys like you only get and they just can't. That's why you're a friend to me, Kyle. I wouldn't change that for anything."

Kyle's words were like ash in his mouth. What was happening? Was what was happening what he thought was happening?

"I'll see you later, Kyle." And there she went, leaving him behind and in a place he hadn't seen in all his plans and calculations. He…he was in the friend zone, wasn't he?

Was it him or was he feeling like Token was at this moment? Depressed, listless, no longer here?

Maybe this was what he deserved. It really was a dick move to move on another guy's former girlfriend and on the same day when he gets dumped by her. Screw that whole thing about separating to try new things, it was a fancy way of saying you were dumping someone. What kind of person was he that he would swoop in like some kind of shark smelling blood in the water? Not a very good person, he guessed.

Must be why he deserved this in the first place. Heh, he hadn't even gotten to the part where he asked her to do something with him, a fancy way of just saying going out on a date with him.

Time to pack it up Kyle and walk away. There's nothing you can do now but wallow in the slime that you yourself have become. That also included the gunk that came with being put into the friend zone.

* * *

><p>You could hear the wind blow outside but inside a bedroom with a certain blond-haired boy nursing a bad case of heartbreak, it wasn't even registered.<p>

After being friend zoned, it was as if Butters had been in a fog, a daze even. Everything had slowed down but at the same time sped up. So would that mean everything was moving at normal speed then? Whatever, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

His fragile, little heart could only take so much, you know? He had been faced with disappointment after disappointment, grounding after grounding, crazy thing after crazy thing but this, this had to be the worst of them all.

When he had finally come home from school, his father had been on the couch, reading his newspaper like always, stopping only to ask him how his day had been. He had only given a sigh and went up the stairs to lock himself in his room. He hadn't come out since, not even when he was told dinner was ready.

So here he was, in bed, almost crying his heart out. He had finished doing that five minutes ago and was on the post-crying sniffles at this point. He didn't even feel the hunger pangs anymore, not that it was important to eat anymore. If he could, he would just lie here and never leave his bed again. Why go back out into a cruel, cruel world to have his heart broken again?

Why had he listened to Kyle anyway? He should have just kept his big mouth shut and watched from far away, like he had been doing for the past two days when his crush first started. That confidence stuff, it hadn't worked! But he couldn't blame Kyle. He had been trying to help. It was his own fault that he had listened and gotten hurt.

Why were girls so mean? Why did they have to hurt boys like him all the time? Sure he wasn't Clyde, or Craig, or Kenny, but couldn't there have been one out there who liked him? Really and truly liked him?

When would he meet her? Because he could really use her right about now.

Outside, the wind grew stronger.

* * *

><p>There was a reference to another fic of mine, <em>My New Best Friend<em>. Anyone care to guess what the reference was?


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Coming at a fast clip, here is chapter two. Now, there's a character in this chapter that you might think is an OC, but he isn't. Recall the episode in the Insecurity episode who warned the husbands of South Park of the UPS man/milkman coming to fuck their wives? Yeah, that's that guy. With that in context, enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.

Warning: language

_You unlock this door with the key of rejection. Beyond it is another dimension: a dimension of frustration, a dimension of agony, a dimension of blue balls. You're moving into a land of both shadow and misfortune, of fear and despair; you've just crossed over into the Friend Zone._

Chapter 2

Seemed like a storm had blown through last night, Stephan Stotch mused as dawn broke over the small town of South Park. The sky was clear now but the ground was wet even with the snow still covering it. A minor detail in what would be a normal day.

Or at least it _would_ be a normal day if his son would get out of bed. He had already knocked on Butters' door, his usual wakeup call but that was _five minutes_ ago. That boy of his was _asking_ to be grounded, wasn't he?

Checking his watch, the patriarch of the Stotch family decided that perhaps his son needed more than a knock on his door this morning. Opening it up, standing in the doorway, and telling his son that he needed to get up ought to do it. Pray that he did not enter the room to tell him one more time to wakeup or Butters was totally going to be grounded, he assures you.

Marching up the steps and down the second story hallway, he reached Butters' room in no time and grasped the doorknob tightly. A quick turn of the knob, a push, and the door was open, revealing the room of Butters to all.

"Butters, I already told…you…"

Stephan Stotch blinked his eyes, then again to make sure he was seeing what he was seeing. What he should be seeing was his little boy in his big bed sleeping the day away like some liberal hippie demanding a handout. That's what he should have seen.

Instead, he found an unmade bed (_an unmade bed!_) and absolutely no sign of Butters.

"Butters?" he called out. "Butters, you come out right now. I'm warning you mister!"

Nothing. The stern tone in his voice wasn't working. Time for the next weapon in his arsenal.

"Butters, you get out here right now or you will be grounded!"

That ought to do it.

…

That wasn't doing it.

In most situations, Stephan would have been worried. Always, always the threat of being grounded worked with this kid. It did! So why wasn't it working this time? He was starting to get a bad feeling about this.

Hurrying into Butters' room, Stephan began checking any place that his son might be hiding. He checked under the bed, then in the closet, then in the drawers, the toy box, under the bed sheets, under the bed again! Where was he? Where was Butters damn it!

"Butters? Butters!" the hysterical father cried out.

* * *

><p>Butters tiredly cracked open his eyes. Gosh, he was tired. More than usual at any rate. Why, he just might close them again, maybe try to get five more minutes…<p>

His eyes snapped opened as his brain caught up with what he had just seen.

He wasn't in his room! Oh no, oh no, this was not good. If his dad went into his room and found out he wasn't there, he was going to be grounded! Breathe, Butters, breathe! Take in deep breaths, calm down, and try to think about where it was you found yourself.

Yes, easy there, calm down. Okay. Now, look around you and see if you can't figure out where you are.

It was a lot of empty space around him, complete with a backdrop of swirling colors of every shade you could ever imagine. There was movement in all the color but it wasn't moving so fast you got dizzy. No, it was more like it was flowing, changing shades, and doing it all constantly.

He looked up and continued to see those same swirling multitudes of color going up so high that he saw no end to it all. Wow, wonder how far up it went? Next was down, and that was when his heart almost stopped.

By that, he meant that there was nothing underneath him either. Just more of those swirling colors going down as far as the eye could see and then some. He was floating in empty space, like some kind of spaceman or something!

And he was still in his pjs! Wait. This must be some kind of dream. Of course, that was it! He was having a dream of being in some kind of weird looking place, and any minute now he was going to wake up in his bed. Yeah, yeah that was all it was going to be. So close your eyes Butters, relax, wait a bit, and when you opened your eyes…you were still here.

Oh Jesus, oh God, where was he?

"Is there anybody here?" he cried out, looking around for anyone. "Help! I don't know where I am or how I got here! Somebody help me!"

"Butters?!"

A voice! And he knew who it belonged to!

"Kyle!" he shouted, looking every which way he could but not finding the other. "Where are you?!"

"Up here!"

Huh? Looking up, Butters was surprised to see the other boy, also in his pjs, floating overhead and looking down on him. Well you don't see that everyday.

As if he was swimming, Kyle moved his way down so that he was closer to the scared out of his mind boy who was relieved that he wasn't here all by his lonesome. "Butters! What are you doing here? Do you know how we got here?"

"I don't know!" he exclaimed. "I just remember going to bed last night, and when I wake up, I'm here! What are we going to do, Kyle?"

"We have to find a way out of here," Kyle stated, taking charge. That made Butters relax a bit. Someone else was going to be deciding what to do. Getting out of here sounded like a great idea too.

"How are we going to do that?" Butters asked as he looked at their surroundings fearfully.

"I don't know. We're going to have to figure out where we are first so that we can then figure out the way to getting out of here," Kyle answered, eyes darting from side to side, not in fear but more like he was searching for something, anything. A clue, a hint, or maybe a big sign that told them where they were. "Look around, Butters, see if you can find something that can tell us where we are."

"Yar right he-are in tha Friend Zone, son."

Butters cried out in shock, and darted to hide behind Kyle. Well, more like did that swimming thing that Kyle did earlier, but still! Who was that? Oh, it was an old-looking man in overall and a hat. What was he doing here?

He was sitting in what looked like a rocking chair, which was on top of a piece of ground…that was floating in this endless, colorful place. It was like someone just grabbed a huge chunk of earth, and then left it here for some reason.

"Who are you?" Kyle demanded.

"I'm no one, son. Just a'nother poor soul trapped in this terrible place," the old man answered. There was this drawl in the man's voice, kinda made him stand out a bit.

"This place…didn't you call it the Friend Zone?" Hey, that old man called this place that just now. Wow, Kyle was so quick at this. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, if ya look over thar at that sign," the old man gestured in what looked like a random direction.

Turns out it wasn't a random direction at all. On another piece of floating earth, merrily floating there, was a large, old-looking, wooden sign that had some words painted with black paint on it. Reading it, Butters gave a loud gasp.

WELCOME

TO THE

FRIEND ZONE

Oh. My. God. The Friend Zone! They were in the Friend Zone! It really was a real place!

"You can't be fucking serious," Kyle said, wide-eyed and stunned.

"Oh God, Kyle, we're in the Friend Zone!" Butters cried out.

"Calm down, Butters!" Kyle placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him down, and it did calm him down. Just a bit, but a bit all the same. Then, to the old man, "Do you know a way out of here?"

"Sorry, but once yar in tha Friend Zone, thar's no getting' out," the old man said. "I've been he-are for almost six months. Nothin'."

"But there has to be!" Kyle wasn't giving up, which gave Butters some hope. Kyle was strong, stronger than him at least. If there was anyone who could find a way out of here, it was him. "Did you look everywhere?"

"Look a'round ya, kid. Thar's nothing here ta find but despair, and blue balls." The old man gestured with an arm at the endless amount of space around them. "Don't think I haven't looked. Tha sooner ya come ta accept this, well, I can't say ya'll be happier, but at least ya won't drive yaself crazy."

"No way, dude." Kyle squared his shoulders and looked the old man dead in the eyes. "I'm not sticking around this place. I'm going to find a way out of here, you can count on it."

* * *

><p>Stan was in the middle of eating a bowl of cereal, dressed and almost ready for school. Almost ready because what ten-year old kid was ever ready to go to school? None, that's who. You needed to be some kind of loser or really, really lame to ever want to be ready for school.<p>

Wait, where was he going with this? Oh, right, he was busy eating breakfast when someone started knocking on the door and ringing the doorbell. Okay, getting back into the moment here, ahem, he was in the middle of eating a bowl of cereal when he was alerted that someone was at the door.

You know, that whole last paragraph was redundant. Whatever.

"Who's that?" his father, Randy Marsh asked aloud as he put down his newspaper, and left the dining area.

Stan remained where he was sitting, continuing to chow down on his sugar-infested breakfast, not bothering to listen to anything else. At least, that was his intention until his lame-ass dad called out for him to come to the door. Wondering what was up, he pushed his chair away from the table and headed towards the front door.

Huh, what was Kyle's mom doing at their house this early in the moning? And his dad. What were Kyle's parents doing here? Where was Kyle?

"Stan, Kyle's mom has something she needs to ask you," his dad told him. Looking at the Broflovskis, he gave them his full attention.

"Stan, have you spoken with Kyle?" Shiela Broflovski asked, looking for all the world like a scared mother.

"No. I haven't heard from him. Why?" Stan was starting to feel as if something was wrong here. He couldn't put his finger on it though. From the looks of things, it involved Kyle somehow.

"Kyle's missing," Shiela told him, sounding as if she was going to start wailing and crying any second now. "He wasn't in his room this morning. I was hoping he might have sneaked out, and come over here."

"Well, he's not here," Randy told her, picking up on the urgency in Shiela's voice. "We would have called if he had."

"Oh God, Gerald!" Shiela cried out, turning to Kyle's dad.

"There, there, we'll find him," Gerald Broflovski told her, wrapping his arms around his wife's shoulder. Looking to the two Marshes, he asked, "Do you know of anything that might have happened? Something that might make Kyle leave like this?"

All eyes, except Shiela's, were on him now. "He seemed a little down yesterday," he told them, trying to think of anything out of the ordinary. He was starting to get worried too. Kyle, missing? Something wasn't right about that. Had he been kidnapped? "Um, he didn't say much, at least after lunch."

"What was he down about?" Gerald pressed.

"I don't know. He didn't talk about it," Stan admitted, his hands balling into fists. "I didn't think much about it."

"He was quiet last night," Gerald stated. "I thought something might have happened at school, but I thought I'd wait until he told me about it."

"Did he?" Randy asked.

"No, nothing, and now we can't find him." Stan could hear some desperation starting to leak into Kyle's dad's voice now.

"Don't worry, Gerald. I'll call some of the guys up, and we'll start looking," Randy said. "I don't think he's gotten far. We'll also get the police in on this to look for him. It's going to be all right."

Stan almost jumped when his phone began to ring, breaking the serious moment. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out the phone, and saw that Cartman of all people was calling him.

"Yeah?" he answered.

"_Dude, you've got to come over to Butters',_" Cartman said.

"What? Butters?"

"_Yeah. His parents are going crazy. There's cops all over the place. Sounds like Butters went misisng or something._"

"Butters is missing?" Stan repeated.

"Butters?" Randy and Gerald repeated simultaneously. The two men shared a look with one another.

* * *

><p>There was a crowd in front of the Stotches when the Broflovskis and the Marshes pulled up. Stan looked at it all from the car window, eyes wide. With every second that was passing, the feeling he had earlier was telling him that somehow the disappearances of Kyle and Butters were connected.<p>

He didn't know why he felt this way, and he hadn't told anybody else. No sense getting people up in arms about it until he had some kind of proof. All he had now was coincidence. Nothing close to hard evidence yet.

He had a sneaking suspicion that it wouldn't be long until others were thinking like him. It was almost a given that Kyle's parents were going to tell everybody that Kyle was missing too, and everybody was going to decide they were connected. So instead of going crazy like everybody else, he was going to go ask some people who knew what was going on for some answers.

Namely, the other kids.

He was the first getting out of the car and hurrying into the crowd of people. People were talking to one another, asking about what was going on, and some coming up with possibilities. Some thought it was a kid running away. Others a kidnapping. One person thought the gay, pedophile version of Twilight was happening, but she was being ignored.

The lights flashing from the police cars weren't helping things. All they were doing were fueling the gossip, making things "serious." Of course it was serious because, you know, a kid was missing.

Finally, he found Cartman holding up a phone and recording everything, all the while making a commentary that was essentially ripping on Butters. Beside him was Kenny in all his orange parka glory who was ignoring Cartman and watching everything silently.

"Guys, what's going on?" he half-asked, half-demanded.

"Oh here's Stan, asking questions like the overly concerned pussy he is," Cartman said as he turned his phone onto him. "Look at that stupid asshole, looking like he really cares what's happened to Butters. Say hi for me Stan, so everyone can know what an asshole sounds like."

"Cartman, not now. Kenny, tell me something man." He turned all his attention to Kenny in the hopes the other boy could clear things up for him.

The boy in the orange parka began to speak, all of it muffled. Stan nodded to everything that Kenny said, putting in an "uh huh" here and there to get his friend to continue speaking. All of it amounted to was that no one knew shit, Butters' parents were throwing a hissy fit, and that things were about to go crazy again for the thousandth time.

"Heh heh, that's Kenny there. He's so poor he can't afford to have a voice that everybody can understand," Cartman commented.

Kenny, in reply, slugged Cartman in the shoulder, and told him to stop calling him poor, you piece of shit.

"Ow, Kenny, that hurt!" Cartman complained.

"Have either of you heard from Kyle?" Stan cut in.

"Jew boy missing?" Cartman asked.

"His parents came to my house, and asked where he was. I haven't heard anything from him," Stan explained.

"Ha! This is so great! Two assholes gone!" Cartman laughed. "I should throw a party or something. No more Jewrat, and no more pussy Butters! This is the second greatest day of my life!"

"Shut up Cartman! Aren't you worried that something might have happened to Kyle?" Stan was glaring at the fat asshole, fists clenched, and ready to make themselves at home in Cartman's fatass face.

"Why the hell should I be worried? Kyle could be getting tortured or better yet, infected with AIDS! Getting everything I ever wanted to happen to that Jewrat!"

Stan paused as a dark scene began to form in his head—

"None of that shit, hippie. We had enough of that in another story," Cartman interrupted his inner theater before it could present an image of Kyle in some kind of bad position. "It was dumb before, and it's dumb now."

"Do you have to be a spoilsport about everything?" Stan grumbled.

"Yes, Stan, yes I do. It brings me happiness," Cartman said blithelessly. "You know what else would bring me happiness? Kyle being bent over a barrel and—"

"Where do you hear all of that?" Stan interrupted, horrified at the words coming out of the other's mouth.

"TV. Where else?" Cartman shrugged.

Kenny said something, his words muffled.

"Ey!" Cartman glared at the parka clad boy while Stan chuckled in amusement.

"Got that right, Kenny."

"You know, I don't have to take any of this! Screw you guys…" Cartman paused as he quickly scanned over the scene in front of Butters' house, searching for anything that he could record, and maybe put on his blog. When nothing else of note happened, he finished, "…Imma going home." Insert usual hand and arm gestures, and fat boy was out, heading away from the crowd.

Good. Now he could speak seriously with Kenny. Maybe he knew something.

"Kenny, did you see anything strange with Kyle yesterday?" Stan asked, moving closer to the other boy.

You didn't need to be a translator to figure out Kenny's answer. "I don't know." The rest was more muffled, and you needed to be a translator to figure it out, but Stan luckily understood him. Well, mostly.

"Damn it!" he swore. "The only thing I know is that Kyle was down last night. His parents think he might have run away, but that doesn't sound like Kyle. He doesn't run from his problems, as far as I know."

Kenny spoke up again, his words muffled.

"That still doesn't sound like him," Stan said. "And now Butters is also missing. And you don't have to be a genius to figure out that—"

"What? Another kid's missing?!" exclaimed a red-orange-headed police detective with a prominent mustache. The murmurings of a crowd grew slightly louder as hysteria began to over take the easily manipulate crowd of adults.

"—that this is going to happen next," Stan concluded lamely. "We need to find out what's going on. Kenny, see what you can find about what happened yesterday that made Kyle and Butters disappear last night."

* * *

><p>This place was weird. It didn't seem to operate under any laws of physics that Kyle was aware of. Other than the swirling colors that were always in the background, there really wasn't much around this place. Sure there were some floating objects here and there, but it was all so random.<p>

The only thing that had proven to be consistent was that a way out hadn't been found yet. Trust him, he had checked. Gotten lost too, but always he found his way back to that sign that stated what this place was.

It was really frustrating, but he wasn't about to give up. They had friends and parents who were probably tearing their hair out right now trying to find them. Those thoughts gave him the will to keep searching, trying to find any way that would let him out of this horrible, empty place.

Now, if only they didn't have a Negative Nancy in their midst…

"Find anything, Butters?" he asked as he swam his way back to their starting point.

"I found some girly magazines," Butters answered helpfully, holding up said girly magazines. What were those even doing here—no, no, forget that he asked. He didn't want to know the answer to that.

"I meant, did you find anything that might lead to a way out of here?" Kyle elaborated.

"Oh. Well, no, I didn't," Butters replied.

"Damn it. This place goes on forever!" Kyle complained as he spun around in all his weightlessness.

"Ya see, I told ya," the old man said, rocking back and forth in his rocking chair. "Once yar in tha Friend Zone, thar's no way out of it."

"I'm not giving up," Kyle stated, slightly glaring at the old man.

"That's what they all say," the old man continued. "They all say thar gonna get out of here, but eventually they figure out that thar's no way out of here. It best to give in, and not stress yourself out."

Kyle rolled his eyes. That's all that asshole talked about. Give up this, there's no escape that, give up all hope who enter here baloney. It amounted to giving up and wasting away is what that all meant. Kyle was a fighter, even if it got him into shit. He didn't know when to quit, especially when it was about something that mattered. This here mattered, and he was going to fight until he got out of this place.

So screw you asshole, he was going home!

"Say Kyle, maybe he's right," Butters said, butting into his inner monologue. "Maybe there is no way out, and we're stuck here."

"Don't you start talking like that Butters. We're getting out of here," Kyle reprimanded. "There's gotta be a way out. How'd we get in in the first place?"

"No man has an answer to that, son," the old man commented.

Ignoring the Negative Nancy peanut gallery over there, "That's how we're going to get out; by finding the way we came here. If something can get in, it can get out."

"You're so smart, Kyle." Butters looked like he had hero worship in his eyes, but it wasn't something Kyle was interested in. Maybe Cartman, but not himself.

"If yar so smart, how'd ya get in here?" the old man questioned. There was no interest in the man's voice. It was as if he was speaking if only to hear himself talk.

Unfortunately, Kyle didn't know the answer to that. "I was asleep when I got here…" he said aloud, putting his thoughts out into the open.

"Yar going about it tha wrong way," the old man interrupted. "Entering tha Friend Zone isn't something that happens when yar asleep. It can happen when yar wide awake. One moment, yar in reality, tha next yar not. That's what happened ta me."

That stopped Kyle cold. "You…were awake?"

"I'm afraid so," the old man confirmed. "It happened so quickly, I didn't know what hit me til it was too late."

"You were hit?" Butters gasped.

"No." The old man paused. "Maybe. I'm not sure."

"Wait a minute, so were you hit or not hit?" Kyle was busy trying to wrap his head around this. Was this guy awake or not?

"I'm going ta have ta think about this for a minute," the old man said, rocking his chair back and forth.

"What's there to think about? Were you or were you not awake when you came here?" Kyle demanded.

"Hmm…" More rocking, more time for Kyle to become more aggravated. "Now I'm not sure."

Kyle let out a growl, and turned away. "Keep looking around Butters, we can't waste anymore time than we have."

"If you say so Kyle," Butters agreed, going along with him. "You'd think anyone would mind if I kept the magazines?"

* * *

><p>Though he didn't look it at first glance, Kenny was worried. He was worried about the disappearances of Kyle and Butters, and he hoped that no harm had come to the two of them. That was why he was going out of his way to talk to as many people as he could, and when he couldn't find out anymore, eavesdrop.<p>

He knew at times that his worth only ever amounted to being a prop in most cases. He was there and conveniently ignored depending on what was going on. Sometimes that played out to his advantage, though. When you were a prop, people didn't pay much attention to you.

That was why, after exhausting the boys, and letting a frantic Stan get a hold of them, Kenny turned his attention towards the girls.

No, it was only coincidence that when he did that, it was currently P.E. It was also coincidence that some of the girls' buttcracks were showing. Again, it was also a coincidence that he found himself staring at said buttcracks. Really, it was just one, dumb coincidence.

As he rubbed his sore cheek, he wondered why no one believed him about that.

Anyway, making use of his primary status as a prop, he began eavesdropping on the girls. Some of the stuff he heard was regretable, regreatable being that he felt some of his brain cells suicide from how boring and innane the stuff he overheard was. Hmm, Lucy Taylor might want to get her act together before she got her case another sparkle, whatever that meant.

After the twentieth conversation about glitter and fingernail polish, he found something more of interest. From what he heard, a couple girls had seen Kyle and Butters talking with one another yesterday, sometime after lunch. There was some speculation that the two might have been planning to leave due to some unsatisfied homosexual lust the two boys had for each other, and at that point Kenny stopped listening.

For some reason, the girls talking about that topic were starting to squeal, and use some weird Asian word. Why that word was appropriate for ten year olds, he had no idea, but he continued his mission to find out more.

Then he finally struck pay dirt.

Someone had overheard Butters yelling at Annie Polk to go out with him. That was a surprise; Butters asking someone out on a date. The little guy was growing up so fast. Kenny felt his heart swell with pride at that. Then the conversation took a different turn. Annie had turned Butters down, and from the sounds of it, wanted to stay friends with him.

Oh God, Butters had been friend zoned. That was a punch in the nads right there. No wonder Butters was so down yesterday.

Wait, what was that? Annie was interested in the new kid? Damn, that new kid was such a douchebag, stealing Annie's heart away from Butters.

Getting back on track, for some reason Kenny felt that this was important. He didn't know why; call it a gut feeling if you will. He was the kind of guy who trusted his gut, but he also was the kind of guy who needed more information before he made a decision. Gut instinct fell below that bar.

Besides, so what if Butters was friend zoned? Token was friend zoned, but he was still around. Walking around like a zombie, mind you, but still around. And what about Kyle? Why was Kyle missing when as far as he knew, Kyle hadn't been friend zoned?

Huh, what if Kyle had gone over to check on Butters after the blond was friend zoned, and was caught up into this shit? An interesting thought, but nothing to support it. Okay girls, enough chatting about hot guys, rich hot guys, and rich hot guys who didn't know you existed but you were planning your entire family life around. Give him something more! Give him something he could use. Give him something, anything, he was getting desperate here.

If he had to hear one more time why so and so was such a backstabbing bitch one more time—

"Kenny? Give me a good reason why you're creeping on the girls, and I won't tell the teacher."

Kenny jumped and spun around, coming face to face with a black-haired girl in a purple coat and pink hat. Oh wow, Stan's girlfriend, Wendy. He could almost hear the sound of a cracking whip.

She was giving him a look. Yeah, probably not a good idea to test her patience. Yet from appearance, she wasn't going to be going anywhere until she got some kind of answer. Or he ran like hell, whichever came first. Still, he didn't see any harm to tell her what he was doing.

Natually, when he explained himself, it was muffled and barely understandable to any person passing by. Wendy stared at him intently, as if she was understanding every word he was saying, and then some.

When he finished, Wendy was silent for a moment, as if processing his explanation. Then, "Let me get this straight. You're stalking the girls because you're trying find any information you can about why Butters and Kyle are missing, and you're doing that because Stan is going crazy trying to find out the same thing himself while driving everybody else crazy. Did I get that right?"

You didn't need to degree in rocket science to understand his "uh huh."

"Kenny, let me ask you this," Wendy said slowly. "Why would you think that any of the girls around here would know anything about this?"

A short stream of muffled words answered her.

"What kind of answer is 'because you already asked the boys and they didn't know'?"

He gave her another short, muffled answer.

"That doesn't make any sense," Wendy deadpanned.

He wondered if she was talking about his reasoning or the fact she couldn't understand anything he was saying.

So, he gave her another explanation, reminding her that Stan was indeed his father's son, and some of his father was starting to show up in him. He included the information that he had overheard about Butters' confession to Annie for good measure.

Wendy blinked at him when he was finished. "So let me get this straight. You think that somehow Butters being friend zoned yesterday has something to do with why he and Kyle are missing today?"

Another muffled response.

"Don't you think it could be coincidence? Besides, Kenny, I think you're being ridiculous. The friend zone is not an actual place."

He sighed. So she thought he was being stupid too. What a shocker there.

Nonetheless, he continued to argue his point.

"Okay, okay, I agree, the boys didn't know anything about Butters being friend zoned, but so what?" Wendy argued back. "It doesn't explain why Kyle's missing."

Kenny gave a muffled response.

"If you'll stop creeping on the girls, I'll ask around, alright?" Wendy bargained.

Well, at least now he could stop eavesdropping.

* * *

><p>It was understandable that Stan was worried. What wasn't understandable was that he had to be in school while everyone, adults in this case, were looking for <em>his<em> best friend. Did they not care what this was doing to him? That he was slowly being traumatized with every second that Kyle remained missing?

Oh, and Butters too. Just in case if anyone was wondering.

But noooo, he had to go to fucking school. This was bullshit. He needed to be out there, checking under every rock, tree, bush, and snowbank for Kyle. Maybe his best friend was buried under a mountain of snow and was freezing to death! Or maybe there was some kind of clue out there that was also buried under the snow or some shit like that. He wasn't out there to find it! It was driving him crazy!

Of course, because he was trapped in school, he decided that this didn't have to be a waste. He could ask the other guys if they knew something. Ah! What if one of _them_ had kidnapped Kyle, and were trying to make him their new best friend! Those unbelievable assholes! Like he hadn't had to deal with that crap like that one time.

A few interrogations later, he was no closer to finding anything out. Maybe that was because the asshole responsible refused to confess! Or… Or! Or maybe they were all in on it like some kind of conspiracy! Those sons of bitches…

Okay, he was going to stop playing mister nice guy now. The next chance he got, he was going to get physical with the person he questioned next. If he had to start resorting to waterboarding, by God, he was going to get to the bottom of this. Don't worry Kyle, your best friend was on his way!

When the bell rang, Stan was all ready to do some Jack Bauer shit, but lucky for those assholes, Kenny got to him first. And Wendy. Wait, what was Wendy doing helping Kenny out? Did the conspiracy go deeper than he thought?

Best to play along for now. Maybe they'd slip up and he'd be one step closer to finding Kyle. And Butters. Man, that kid was so forgettable.

"What d'ya got, Ken?" he asked, trying to be as casual as possible and overacting the part instead.

The answer he got was long, and muffled. Yet he understood it all like he was fluent in it and all. Basically, what Kenny found out was that Butters got friend zoned yesterday (ouch, man, ouch), and that he had been talking with Kyle before said friend zone. Okay, so where was he going with this?

That's when Wendy started talking. "Kenny got me to look into this a little more. I found that Kyle was speaking to Nicole after he talked with Butters. According to Nicole, they were talking about her separation with Token—"

Stan struggled to hold back a wince at that. Kyle, what were you doing man? Did you forget about Bro Code? Okay, pay attention Stan, don't get sidetracked, and reveal your best friend's true intention to your girlfriend. You still needed to be a bro too.

"—which is very interesting. Two guys approach two girls, and later both guys show symptoms of depression—"

Sorry Wendy, but he needed to address this. Man, not only are you violating Bro Code, but you get friend zoned too? Kyle, buddy, what's going on with you?

"—so I think Kenny might be on to something. What that is, I don't know," Wendy finished.

Despite the comments he was making in his head, he had still miraculously managed to follow along with what his girlfriend was saying, even if it was only the gist of it. Something was nagging at him, something that didn't quite make sense.

"What about Token?" he asked. "He was all depressed yesterday, but nothing's happened to him."

At that time, Token was walking by, head lowered and releasing a sigh. Man, he looked like he had seen better days.

"Kenny?" Wendy pointedly asked the park-wearing boy.

Kenny shrugged, giving as his muffled answer, "I don't know."

Okay, so now what? Whatever Kenny and Wendy were able to piece together had just taken a shot from the equivalent of a shotgun, and was falling apart. Yet it was the only thing he had going for him. Both Butters and Kyle get friend zoned on the same day, and disappear on the same night. Too much of a coincidence.

Guess there was only one thing to do then.

"Wendy, I need you to do something for me," he said gravely to his girlfriend. "This is really important, and you're the only one who can do it."

"What?" Wendy asked, getting swept up in the seriousness of this.

"I need you to friend zone me."

Wendy stared at him and Stan traded her look for look. He had never been so serious in his life about this. Except for that one time. And that other time. And that one time. And that one time. And that one time. And that—

"You want me to do what?!" Wendy exclaimed.

"There's only one way to find out what happened to Kyle. And Butters. We need to do exactly what those two did then wait and see what happens. To do that, someone needs to get friend zoned and depressed like them. Then when that person goes missing, we'll know if we're doing the right thing," Stan outlined his grand plan, and it was one of his best ones to date if he doesn't say so himself. Which he does.

"Stan, we're together. How would me friend zoning you right now help us figure out what happened to Kyle and Butters?" Wendy asked, incred…incre…some big word that meant being like Kyle when Cartman came up with a plan of any kind.

"Because I've got nothing else, Wendy," Stan stated boldly. "Nothing else but my status as Kyle's best friend, and my balls."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.

Warning: language

_You unlock this door with the key of rejection. Beyond it is another dimension: a dimension of frustration, a dimension of agony, a dimension of blue balls. You're moving into a land of both shadow and misfortune, of fear and despair; you've just crossed over into the Friend Zone._

Chapter 3

It was another day…er, what could be called a day here in the Friend Zone and Butters was taking a break from finding his way out of here. Searching this place was hard work, you know, and you got tired and sweaty by doing a lot of stuff like you would in the real world.

The mysterious old man was exactly where they had left him, still on that floating piece of earth in that rocking chair that he was always sitting in. So, not wanting to be all alone in this huge, never-ending place, Butters had taken a seat beside the old man. The old man didn't say he couldn't sit there so unless told otherwise, that was where he was going to be.

Kyle later joined them, looking awfully peeved. Butters figured out that his Jewish friend hadn't found a way out yet and he could understand why he didn't look happy. Butters was kinda feeling the same way though maybe not as much as Kyle.

But he was still awfully sore at not finding anything either.

"Butters?" Kyle asked. Nothing else needed to be said as Butters immediately knew what he was asking about.

"Not a thing, Kyle. What about you?"

"Nothing yet, but I'm going to head out in a bit." Looks like he wasn't the only one wanting to take a break.

"It's admirable that yar still looking fer a way out, but it's not going ta happen," the old man said. "Yar going to burn yarself out faster if ya keep up with tha way yar going."

"Don't you have anything else to say other than telling us to give up?" Kyle snapped at the old man.

"Nope. Not really. Thar really isn't anything around here ta talk 'bout anyway," the old man replied.

"Um, sir? If you don't mind me asking, how did you get here? Were you friend zoned too?" Butters asked. He could tell that if left alone, Kyle would continue to argue with the old man, and that was going to get boring after a while. This old man was the only other person they knew of here, and if they made him mad enough, he might just go away and leave them all alone.

"Of course I was, young'un. The only way ta get here is ta be friend zoned," the old man answered. "In mah case, I was courtin' mahself a nice Christain woman. We went out on a few dates, I paid fer all of them. After doin' tha proper courting rituals, I was ready ta take tha next step with her. I was gonna ask if we could start doing a little slap an' tickle. And that's what I did."

Butters nodded his head, barely daring to blink as if doing so would make him miss something. "And then what happened?" he asked.

"Butters, isn't it obvious?" Kyle groaned.

"When I asked her," the old man continued as if not hearing Kyle, "she told me that she would like if we stayed friends an' that she didn't want ta risk destroying our friendship. Suffice ta say, it caught me off guard and tha next thing I know, I'm in this place. An' I've been here ever since.

"Thar were others around when I first showed up, but thar all gone now. One by one. Thar's no rhyme or reason ta it. Just one day, one of them disappears and never shows up again. Sometimes one or two of them go off ta find an exit, and don't come back."

"Does that mean they found a way out?" Kyle perked up at that. After hearing Kyle, Butters also started paying attention.

"Doubtful. Ya see, thar's more ta tha Friend Zone than just being stuck in limbo, boys. Thar is tha true secret of tha Friend Zone, tha reason why it exists, and what its purpose is."

"Ooh, what's that?" Things were starting to get really good here.

"Yar gonna have ta give me a moment. I need ta recall it 'fore I can tell it." The old man leaned back in his rocking chair, not paying attention to how Kyle groaned impatiently. Butters was of the same opinion. He wanted to hear about the secret of the Friend Zone too! Maybe if they knew more about this place, they would be able to figure out a way out of it.

"Dude, how can you forget about something as important as that?" Kyle demanded, staring at the old man as if he had lost his mind.

"That's tha thing 'bout tha Friend Zone. Ya stay here long enough, it starts playin' tricks on yar mind," the old man answered.

Oh hamburgers, that was not something he needed to hear! What if he began to forget things, like…like…like how mad his parents were going to be when they found out he wasn't in his bed! Why, he was going to be grounded! Actually, that was something he might want to forget instead of remember. Huh.

"What kind of tricks?" Kyle narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Oh, ya know, tha usual. Forgetin' stuff, seein' stuff, imaginin' stuff, making stuff outta thin air…" the old man trailed off.

"Wait, making things out of thin air?" Kyle was as alert as he ever was at that. "Why didn't you tell us that sooner! We could have made a way out of this place by now!"

"Not how it works. Don't think it hasn't been tried. It's little things like…" The old man paused as a puff of smoke blew up beside him without warning.

Butters cried out and scrambled away from the old man, as if whatever was in that puff of smoke was going to hurt him. As the smoke cleared, there in its place was a stack of magazines. Kyle crept over to them, and read off the title of the top magazine.

"Christain Girls Gone Wild?"

"You young'uns are a bit too young ta be looking at those," the old man said as he put a hand on Kyle's shoulder, and pushed him away from the magazines.

Oh gee, adult stuff! If he took at a look at that stuff, he was grounded for sure!

"Where did those things come from?" Kyle demanded.

"Beats me, kid, but however that happens, it prevents ya from goin' crazy outta boredom," the old man answered. "Now, if ya'll excuse me, I needs my private time. Go back an' try ta find yar way out in tha meantime. An' if I remember, I'll tell you 'bout tha secret of tha Friend Zone."

"Wow. You think it's going to be a good secret?" Butters asked.

* * *

><p>It seemed like ever since they got together, it was getting more and more trying dealing with Stan. Should have been obvious that Stan wasn't going to make this an easy thing. Just look at his father.<p>

But Wendy was in for the long haul. So she would do her best to tolerate some of the dumbest and senseless things that Stan said or did because she was a strong, independent girl, and she took her commitments seriously.

"Come on, Wendy! I need to rescue Kyle! Friend zone me, please!" Stan pleaded, following her around like a lost dog.

Remember, Wendy, you take your commitments seriously.

"I'm not doing it, Stan." She was holding her ground here.

"Okay, I'll admit, my idea was kinda dumb earlier," Stan said, catching her off guard. He was admitting it this early? Was there some kind of planetary alignment she wasn't aware of? "But I've got a better idea! Trust me, it'll work!"

"What is it?" Yep, throwing caution to the wind here.

"It's real simple, Wendy. You friend zone me—" Stan began.

"How is that any different from your first plan?" Wendy interrupted.

"Unlike my first, I'll have a rope wrapped around me so that that way, if what happened to Kyle and Butters happens to me, you'll be able to pull me back," Stan explained, excited about it and everything.

"Stan, you're…" She couldn't finish that. She just…what could she say here that would express all that she was thinking in that one moment?

"A genius, right?" Christ, it was like Stan genuinely believed that.

"There is no guarantee it's going to work." She had to put it out there, even if it crushed Stan's hopes. Someone needed to be the voice of reason here. Why was being in that position always so hard? "Besides, what do you think is going to happen, Stan? How do you know those houses weren't broken into?"

"Because I've been paying attention to the news!" Stan announced proudly, holding up his iPhone.

"Have you been using that in class?" Wendy asked, staring at the telecommunications device.

"No! I'd lose it if I did because Garrison's an asshole," Stan scoffed at the thought. "I've doing it during breaks, restroom breaks, and lunch break. Cops say there were no signs of foul play. I don't know what foul play is, but it sounds like a bad thing."

"So they ran away?" Wendy concluded.

"None of their stuff was missing, Wendy. All that is gone are the pjs they wore last night. So if no one broke into their house, and they didn't run away, that can mean only one thing."

Wendy leaned in closer to Stan, as if he was going to reveal some reality-altering truth here. Why was Stan so gifted a speaker?

"It means that they were abducted by an interdimensional portal to an alternate realm where time and space have no meaning!" Stan concluded.

Wendy rolled her eyes. Why had she expected anything else? "Stan, when has something like that _ever_ happened, except for that one time?" she demanded.

"I think something like that happened last Tuesday," Stan said after thinking about it.

"Stan, I'm not going to get into some kind of debate over theories of quantum physics with you. Even if there was a one in a million chance that it could happen, where's your proof?" There, some logic to burst that bubble of yours, Stan.

She forgot who she was talking to. "So you're saying there is a chance that's what happened!" Stan declared.

Wait, when had she ever said that?

_Even if there was a one in a million chance that it could happen…_

Figures he'd hone in on that part and not the whole thing. And why did that even need to be repeated? She had just said it a few paragraphs ago.

"Wendy, you have no idea how much it means to me that you believe in me," Stan continued. "Now, quick, friend zone me, Wendy, so I can cross that interdimensional barrier, and rescue Kyle from who knows what!"

"Ahem, Stan. Wendy."

The two of them paused and looked up at Principal Victoria. Huh, where had she come from, and so silently too?

The glasses-wearing principal said, "It's time for you two to be getting to class now. Hurry up so that you won't be tardy."

"Of course, Principal Victoria. We will," Wendy assured the curly-haired, blonde woman as she gripped Stan's coat, and began dragging him behind her.

* * *

><p>As soon as the two students had left her eyesight, Principal Victoria glanced around for any other students that may be loitering around. Then she checked for any teachers dragging their feet. Then she checked for Mr. Mackey.<p>

When she found herself completely alone, she removed an iPhone from her pocket, and quickly dialed a number. Placing the phone to her ear, she waited as she heard the phone on the other line ringing. When her call was answered, she spoke in a serious tone.

"We have a problem."

* * *

><p>Something was wrong.<p>

Call it a gut feeling, but Stan knew that something was up. His first clue came when class ended and he left Garrison's torture chamber of a classroom. There were eyes on him, he could feel them watching him. Kinda gave him the chills, if you know what he means.

Looking around showed that no one was watching him, everyone going about their business life usual. Almost usual. The guys were kinda avoiding him, Tweek giving a loud shriek and running away as if his life was on the line was a big clue. Other than that, he was looking to ambush—er, meet up with Wendy to see if she was willing to go along with his big plan.

Then he caught sight of the kindergarten teacher watching him. He could have dismissed it as her keeping an eye on the noisy kindergartners except she wasn't even looking at them. Her eyes were on him. And they followed him as he made his way through the hallway.

Was she in to him or something? Because he was already taken, and didn't like way, way older girls

Then there were the home ec teacher. A little unsettling, but he got by her without any problems.

What was really creppy was when he was going past Mrs. Claridge, his former pre-K teacher, who stopped wheeling down the hallway in a cylindrical wheelchair, and manuevered around to face him. Though not bothered by it, the facial scar was kinda making the ever-silent pre-K teacher unnerving today.

Out of a sense of guilt he greeted her. "Hey, Mrs. Claridge. Are you having a good day?"

Mrs. Clarridge was silent for what seemed like longer than necessary. Then she gave him a single beep.

That's all the answer he needed. He began walking again, but a quick glance over his shoulder revealed that Mrs. Claridge was watching him still. Never before had he ever felt so shaken by the crippled woman before. Seemed like today was going to be one of _those_ days.

Oh hey, Wendy was up ahead. Time to get back to business!

"Hey Wendy!" he called out after his girlfriend. He couldn't be sure from this distance, but it looked like she tensed up. Must have been his imagination or something.

"Yes, Stan," she sighed. That too must have been his imagination, but he wasn't paying it any attention because he had more important things to pay attention to.

"Are you still going to be helping me out?" he asked, almost bouncing from the pent up energy he had. "We're running out of time if we're going to do it and have me wherever Kyle was sent to. And Butters. Come on, Wendy. Help me out."

"Stan, what you're talking about is ridiculous." Jesus, why was she being a Negative Nancy all of a sudden? "I'm not going to do it because it's only a waste of time—"

"It's not a waste of time, Wendy!" Stan interrupted, glaring at her. "I'm asking you to help me because you're my girlfriend. Help me out this one time and I promise I won't ask anything from you again."

"Like I haven't heard that before," Wendy muttered.

"What was that?" he asked. What had she said? He hadn't heard her.

"Fine. Stan, I think we're better off as friends, and I don't want to endanger that," Wendy finally gave in though she was speaking as if she would rather be doing anything else, and was trying to get this over with as soon as possible. "There? Are you happy?"

"Thanks, Wendy. You're the best!" He leant forward and put a kiss on her check, not really thinking about it.

Just as he turned around, his stomach caught up with him, and he vomited up his lunch. Huh, a delayed reaction. Hadn't had that happen before. Now where was he? Oh, right! Phase 2 of his incredibly awesome plan.

"I'll see you at my house tonight," he told her over his shoulder. "I'll have the rope ready."

He was already running home, and that was the reason he didn't see Wendy roll her eyes at him. Don't worry, Kyle! He was on his way!

* * *

><p>Wendy went straight home, not wanting to think about school. Today had been a crazy day, and Stan hadn't made it any easier.<p>

He was losing his mind, that's all she could come up with. Made her wonder where his priorities were in life.

Perhaps the trials of the day were more trying than she thought. As she entered her home, her mother picked up on her mood immediately. "Did something happen at school, Wendy?" she asked, motherly concern in her voice.

What she wanted to do was ease her mother's worries, but dealing with Stan today had taken its toll on her. She didn't have it in her to put up a front and do her best to get to the safety of her room with the minimal amount invasiveness. Maybe releasing some steam would make her feel better.

"Mom, the friend zone isn't some interdimensional realm that girls send boys to when they don't want to date them, right?"

She could have sworn that her mother blinked at her. She admitted she could have worded that better, make it simplier to understand and all.

"Wherever did you get such an idea?" her mother asked her after some time had passed.

"Stan was being crazy today. He got it in his head that his best friend was abducted by a portal to another world, and he's trying to find a way to get there himself," Wendy explained. "He wouldn't leave me alone about it."

"Well, you know boys. They get crazy ideas from time to time, and they're the only ones willing enough to go through with them. It's the price we women have to pay," her mother told her. "Give him some time. He'll get it out of his system. When his friend shows back up, everything will go back to normal. You'll see."

Wendy sighed. "Thanks, Mom."

"Any time dear. Now go up to your room and get started on your homework."

Wendy nodded, feeling better already. Maybe there really was something to talking your problem out with your parents. They seemed to make everything so much more manageable.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't see or hear her mother go to the phone in the kitchen, and dial a number.

"We have a problem."

* * *

><p>How long had they been here? A day? An hour? A week? Kyle didn't know, but his frustration was mounting with every minute he was still here in the Friend Zone. Damn it, where the hell was the exit! He was beginning to think the old man was right.<p>

No, you mustn't think like that! You're going to find your way out, Kyle. Don't lose your hope.

For now, time for a break so he could get rid of some stress before continuing the search. Naturally, he ended up taking his break right where he had started. Butters was already there, and while still being his innocent, cheerful self, the Jew could see that being stuck in this place was starting to take a toll on the other boy. That old man was also there, still in that rocking chair and being his asshole self.

Of all the people to be trapped in some kind of limbo…

"See ya came back. Knew ya would," the old man greeted him, not looking at him.

"I'm not in the mood," Kyle warned. Seriously, one wrong move and he swore, he was going to snap.

"Kyle, you came back just in time!" Butters said. "He remembered that thing he was going to tell us about earlier."

"He did, huh." Color him skeptical, but this had better be good if it was going to make up for the frustration he was feeling.

"Reckon ya oughta sit down. Might take a while ta tell ya," the old man advised.

"Fine," he gritted out. He took his seat on the piece of floating earth, boring his gaze into the old man. "So? Get on with it."

"That's rather rude of ya, Kyle," Butters told him, frowning slightly. Oh great, now Butters was chastizing him. What next?

"Now, as I recall, I was 'bout ta tell ya'll 'bout tha secret of tha Friend Zone," the old man began, picking up where he had left off. "Ta do that, I need to tell you about tha world from which we are no longer apart of. Ya see, the world as you know it isn't what ya think it is."

"Let me guess, we live in some kind of Matrix world," Kyle snarked.

"Shh!" Butters hushed him.

"No, nothing as ridiculous as that," the old man corrected him. "The world as you know it is an illusion. Ya see, men aren't in charge of it."

Huh? What? What did he mean by that? He shared a confused look with Butters, but kept silent.

"Who's in charge of it?" Butters asked, already swept up in the tale.

"Who else? Women."

It was stated so matter-of-factly that Kyle at to blink twice at it. Women were in charge of the world? Really? Especially with how bad they were being treated and all? Women were in charge? Seriously?

"I can see ya'll aren't quite believing me," the old man said.

"It doesn't make any sense!" Kyle cried out. "Most of the world is controlled by men! Men are in the vast majority of positions of power! Presidents, CEOs, all of that! And you're saying that women are the ones in charge?"

"It's not as simple as that, young'un. It suits women's purpose ta have men believe they are tha ones in control," the old man explained. "Behind every powerful man is an even more powerful woman. They had been controlling tha world from behind tha scenes, where most things are done anyway. Do you really think men can run the world when the vast majority of men lack tha maturity ta do so?"

"Lack maturity?" Kyle repeated, tilting his head to a side.

"What do men do most of tha time? They call each other names, get into fights, blow shit up, throw temper tantrums when they don't get their way. All in all, they act like children. Children can't run tha world. It's as simple as that. That's where women come in. They keep tha men in line, move them to thar will. They are tha ones with tha eye on tha prize."

"So what about other women being oppressed over in other places?" Kyle asked.

"That's women's doing too. Ya see, despite bein' more mature than men, thar is nothing a woman hates more than another woman, especially when tha other woman is competition. It doesn't take much ta push a man ta violence, and if yar good enough, ya can control where that violence goes. Eliminate tha competition with extreme prejudice."

"So how does this go back to the Friend Zone?" Kyle asked.

"Women created tha Friend Zone."

Women…created the Friend Zone? How? Why?

"In order ta stay in charge, women needed a means ta draw power so that they could maintain their control," the old man continued without any prompting. "Tha Friend Zone was tha result. Ya see, tha Friend Zone acts as a means ta suck away a man's life force. That life force is then harnessed by qwazersteric generators which then transmutes that life energy into marlocks which are then absorbed into dardenelles that then become tha source of power that women use to continue their domination of tha world. It's really simple when ya think about it."

Think about what…? Oops, sorry, kinda got lost in that long-winded explanation, but what the fuck? That…was so convoluted, and made little sense to the Jew. That was saying a lot as he was pretty smart, and able to grasp concepts that many of his classmates had trouble getting. In fact, Butters was sitting over there with his eyes glazed over and drooling slightly. But even he was having trouble wrapping his head around this!

"Blew yar mind, huh," the old man grunted. "Yeah, everyone has that look on thar face once they learn tha truth. Can't say I blame ya."

"Let's…say that was all true," Kyle began talking slowly, "what happens to us? Those…stuck here?"

"Well, a man only has so much life force," the old man remarked. "Eventually it's gonna run out. When that happens, a man is left only as a husk of himself, which pretty much describes any man whose gotten married. 'Course, this is quicker in comparison."

"We're gonna be sucked dry!" Butters squeaked. Already he was becoming hysterical.

"Will happen ta all of us," the old man confirmed. "Some sooner than later. Yar friend in the hat is most likely gonna be tha first since he is one of tha more fiery ones here. Tha ones that refused ta accept thar fate are usually tha first ta go."

"Oh no! Not Kyle!" Butters shouted.

"You don't know that for sure!" Kyle was a bit shaken by the news. "For all we know, it could be you whose next! Or Butters!"

"I don't want to be sucked dry, Kyle!" Butters bawled.

"Could be, but we won't know fer sure til it happens," the old man shrugged. "I wouldn't get so high and mighty if I was you. Once ya been here long enough, you get better at figuring out how things work."

As much as Kyle wanted to argue that, he was feeling a sense of dread. A small part of him was whispering that the old man was right, that he knew what he was talking about, and that he, Kyle, was flailing about in futility, working only to doom himself in this horrible place. Another part of him was saying this was all BS except that part was growing steadily weaker.

Get a grip Kyle. Your life was at stake here. You can't stay here forever, you couldn't even if you wanted to. If the old man was right, you were going to be drained of your life force, and then that would be it. Game over. Don't go past start and do not collect $200 dollars.

He couldn't let it end this way. He wouldn't! This sense he was getting, it was planted there by that old man, nothing more.

Why couldn't he shake it?

* * *

><p>Stan's eyes opened and he found himself staring at the ceiling. Had he done it? Was he in the friend zone? He wasn't sure, but that ceiling looked like the one in his room.<p>

Sitting up, he moved his hand down to his waist, feeling about until he found the rope he had tied there. He then followed the rope up to the headboard of his bed where the other end was secured. He frowned, unable to make anything of this.

The only thing that was coming to mind right now was that Wendy hadn't shown up last night. Maybe…maybe his whole room had been sucked in as well?

Eyes widening, Stan scrambled out of bed and raced to the door…or he would have had he not forgotten to untie the rope that was still wrapped around his waist. Stupid rope! Why was it still tied around him and preventing him from saving Kyle! With a grunt, he released himself and resumed his rush to the bedroom door.

Pulling it open, he found the hallway that was always on the other side of the door. Was he in the friend zone yet? Because so far it wasn't looking like it. How did this thing work anyway?

Still unwilling to give up hope on his awesome plan, Stan made his way downstairs and to the kitchen. If the friend zone was an alternate dimension, would that mean there were alternate selves of other people? If only he could find someone—there's his mom! Time to put this to the ultimate test!

"Mom!" he called out, hurrying over.

"Yes, Stanley?" his mother answered him, looking over her shoulder at him.

"Mom, am I in the friend zone?" he asked her eagerly.

"Friend zone? What are you talking about, Stan?" His mother looked confused, like she had no idea what he was talking about. "Are you and your friends playing another roleplay game again?"

"Isn't this, well, you know, some alternate dimension separated by time and space from reality?" Stan continued to press, hope clinging to life but just barely.

"Stanley, you aren't in any place other than home, right smack dab in the middle of Godforsaken Colorado. Now, get some cereal, and get ready for school."

Stan stared at his mother, not taking his eyes off her as what she said sunk in.

God…damn it! His awesome plan hadn't worked! What had gone wrong?! Wendy had friend zoned him so that should have sent him to where Kyle was! And Butters! So why was he still here in the real world?

He kicked at the floor, and stomped away angrily. It was back to the drawing board.

"Stanley? What's wrong with you?" His mother was back to looking at him, this time turned around so that she was fully facing him.

Not thinking about it, Stan growled out, "I'm trying to save Kyle from the friend zone. A girl friend zoned him, and now he's stuck in a place separate from our world. No matter what I do, I can't get there, and all I want to do is save Kyle!"

His mother stared blankly at him. "Just go get your breakfast, Stanley."

Some help you were, he grumbled to himself.

* * *

><p>Watching her son carefully, Sharon Marsh waited until Stan was out of ear shot before she reached for the phone and dialed a number.<p>

"We have a problem."

* * *

><p>A few houses down, and in the Broflovski household, a voice thundered, "What, WHAT, <em>WHAT<em>?!"

* * *

><p>Stan was off to the bus stop, still pissed as hell. Even now he couldn't figure out where he had gone wrong. It wasn't making any sense! He had been friend zoned, he had rope, and he had made sure he wouldn't have gone anywhere without knowing it, so what went wrong? His ten year old mind couldn't figure it out!<p>

Was the world deadset against him helping Kyle? Then fuck that because nothing was going to stop him. He was going to save his best friend, just you wait world! He wasn't going to rest until his best friend was back in this shithole town, sharing in their insane adventures, and being his wingman when he needed him.

Who else was he to depend on? Cartman? Pfft. No. Just, no. Kenny? Kenny was alright but he just wasn't…dependable. That's it. With Kyle, he could depend on him to be where he needed him to be. The other assholes as school? Come on, they were all so lame. They'd cramp his style.

He was almost beyond caring if he had to tear the world apart at this point. He was…he…was…

Someone was staring at him again. It was the lady from across the street. She wasn't doing anything. She was only watching him…and that was it. He didn't like it. Call it his tiger instincts or whatever.

The lady's sight was blocked as a car passed by. Stan, however, was not put at ease by this. The driver of the car was a woman, and she was looking at him the same way the lady across the street had been. He didn't like those looks. It was as if they were watching him with accusing eyes that said…he didn't know what they said.

He wasn't fluent in girl-speak.

On alert, Stan began paying more and more attention to his surroundings. What he found, he didn't like. There were a lot more eyes on him, and all those eyes belonged to chicks. Adults ones at least since he didn't see any his age walking around. Eyes were watching him from across the street, from cars, from windows and behind window blinds, and even from…behind…?

He began to quicken his pace. He was getting a sense of déjà vu here, but for the life of him he didn't what that was about. So far nothing was happening to him, but that could change any moment. Up ahead he could see the bus stop and the safety it kinda sorta offered. He could see Kenny and Cartman there, minding their own business.

For once, he didn't mind that he was going to be sharing the same space with Cartman.

He must have been later than usual today. The bus passed him and was coming to a stop at the bus stop. Reminded of all the eyes watching him, he ditched walking and started a full out run. He didn't want to find out what would happened if he missed the bus today of all days. Faster, legs faster!

Please Cartman, for one time in your life, let your weight slow you down for once! Crap, the fatass was getting on the bus! Kenny, don't, don't, no, now Kenny was getting on. He was running out of time!

No! The bus was starting to close its doors just as he was reaching it. "Hey! Hey!" he yelled out, banging a fist on the side of the bus. Please, please, please don't leave without him! You know, he never thought he would ever be wanting to get on the school bus of his own free will, but these were the days he was living in.

To his relief, the bus didn't pull away, opening its doors to allow him on. Wasting no time, he entered the bus though his heart continue to pound from his last minute dash.

* * *

><p>"Wendy! <em>Wendy<em>!"

She had been trying to ignore it, but no longer could she maintain discipline. Naturally, it didn't help that the person saying her name also happened to be sharing the seat she had taken this fine morning.

"What, Stan?" she asked, caving in to the other's demand for her attention.

"Something's really weird today." Oh, you don't say? "People are watching me, Wendy." Uh huh, that's nice. "I don't like it. It's like they're waiting to jump me any second." Wow, fascinating. "Um, is that your mom? I think she's staring at me." How enthrall—wait, what?

"Huh?" She glanced at Stan, but found that his eyes were looking past her and to the window she was beside. Following his gaze, she found that her mother was indeed there, on the sidewalk, and staring right at Stan. Of course, she looked away as soon as she realized Wendy was paying attention.

That was…weird.

"Stan, what have you done?" she asked warily, now giving Stan her full attention.

"I tried going to the friend zone, but it didn't work. And now all these people are watching me. I can't figure it out." Stan looked frustrated, as if trying to solve a puzzle that was beyond him.

And he was involving her now.

What were the odds?

Yet she could not deny something odd was going on, especially now that she was paying attention to their surroundings. She found quite a few people were watching the bus, their bus to be precise, as it made its way to South Park Elementary. Something she noticed was that all people watching happened to be women for some reason.

Now, this could be coincidence, but it bore looking into, if only a little.

"There's only one thing I can figure out, though," Stan continued, disturbing the dark-haired girl's thoughts. "Whatever is going on, it involves me trying to get into the friend zone on purpose, meaning that if I'm going to get any answers, I got to get there. So, as much as it might hurt you Wendy, I need you to suck it up and friend zone me hard. As in real hard. The last time wasn't enough so you're really going to have to dig deep on this one."

"Stan," Wendy spoke slowly. "Do you think that there might be another way to do whatever it is you're doing? I would think that all the people, who happen to be women I might add, would know something about that, don't you think?"

"Wendy, I'm a guy of action, not thinking. Thinking makes my head hurt too much," Stan told her. "So, my house, tonight, be there, friend zone me like you've never friend zoned someone before, and make something happen. I'll be ready with the rope."


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: I do believe things will really be picking up in this chapter. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.

Warning: language

_You unlock this door with the key of rejection. Beyond it is another dimension: a dimension of frustration, a dimension of agony, a dimension of blue balls. You're moving into a land of both shadow and misfortune, of fear and despair; you've just crossed over into the Friend Zone._

Chapter 4

There was a knock on the Stotches' front door. Doom and gloom was palpable from the two-story house; enough that it would make a person question if they really wanted to approach the place.

Despite the police tape covering the door of Butters' room, the Stotch residence was still being inhabited. Linda Stotch knew this because she was still here with Stephan.

Poor Stephan, he was so lost. Like her, he was desperate to find their lost, little boy. He was also on his wits' end. All the trouble that had been caused by this, it needed to be handled delicately. So when they finally had her baby boy back with them, he was going to be so grounded for causing such a ruckus, and giving everybody such a scare.

Of course, there came the question: how do you ground someone when they are not there? Stephan couldn't figure it out so he was on the couch in his bathrobe, staring into space and muttering to himself. He needed to ground somebody and quickly. Otherwise, he might explode from righteous fury.

In the meantime, while not looking her best either, Linda would continue to maintain the home as best as she could. At the very least, whoever was at the door would make for a good distraction.

"Sheila!" she greeted as best as she was able once the front door was open. "It's nice to see you."

Keep in mind that Linda was not looking her best. Her clothes were rumpled, she had split ends, bags under her eyes were showing, and to top it all off, she wasn't wearing makeup. Sheila Broflovski, on the other hand, was all prim and proper with her ironed blouse and hair done up in a beehive of a bun. Perfect contrasts.

"Linda, I need to speak with you," Sheila stated. There was an authority in her voice that made the Stotch woman stay and listen. "I believe I know where your son is."

"You do?" Linda nearly exclaimed, being shushed by Sheila. It was almost as if she didn't want Stephan to know…

"Keep it down, Linda. This is not for…other ears to hear," Sheila spoke softly, looking left and right for potential spies. "I need you to control yourself, Linda. This may be shocking to you but from…sources, I have come to believe that your son, Butters, is in the Friend Zone."

Linda felt her blood still. "Are…are you sure?"

"Your son was witnessed speaking to one of the girls at school, and she turned him down," Sheila explained.

"Which was why he was depressed…" Linda concluded, eyes widening in horror. "No…no! This has to be some kind of mistake!"

"Linda, we are in the same boat," Sheila told her. "My Kyle is also there. We have to make our petition before our boys are…" She couldn't finish, and Linda understood perfectly. "We don't have much time," Sheila picked back up, unable to finish the earlier sentence. "Are you with me?"

"I am." Resolution filled her as she straightened her shoulders. She wasn't about to let her precious son be consumed by the horrifying powers that be without a fight.

Butters still needed to be grounded, after all.

* * *

><p>Kyle was feeling tired. So very tired.<p>

He was tired and had absolutely nothing to show for it. No way out, no clues to finding a way out, nada. He was laying right here in the company of Butters and the old man whose commentary on their situation was so old that it was decomposing.

He had to remind himself, it could be worse. He could be stuck in this place with Butters, the old man, _and_ Cartman with his antisemitism. The last thing he needed to be doing was arguing with the fatass who would most likely blame him for somehow getting his fat ass into the Friend Zone.

It was a small mercy, made him feel that much better, but it still didn't change the fact that he was stuck here. The realization of this was slow in coming, sure, and at this point, he was finding it harder and harder to argue with. The Friend Zone was just too endless, and he didn't have the energy or righteous fury to continue fighting.

Kyle turned onto his side, bringing his knees to his chest. He was so tired right now.

"Is something wrong, Kyle? You don't look so good." Butters was now hovering over him. "I think you need to see a doctor."

"Looks ta me like tha Friend Zone is getting to him," the old man remarked. "They all start looking like that when tha Friend Zone starts ta drain 'um dry. I told him not ta be running all over."

"Oh no!" Butters cried out. "Help! Somebody help my friend! He's being sucked dry by the Friend Zone!"

"Just like marriage," the old man commented.

"Sir! There has to be something we can do! Something to help Kyle!" Butters turned to the old man desperately.

"Nothing can be done, once tha Friend Zone has it's claws on ya," the old man replied. "This is only tha beginning. Fortunately, maybe unfortunately, it's a slow process, ya see. Those qwazersteric generators don't fool around; they like ta get every last drop outta ya. 'Course, might be different since this one is a kid. Might take less time."

"No!" Kyle could hear the desperation in Butter's voice. "We have to get out of here! Kyle was right!"

"How can ya get out of a place that has no way ta get out of it?" the old man asked, posing a rhetorical question.

"You've been here for six months! How are you still here?" Butters asked back, ignoring the old man's question.

"Simple, I dun resist. Friend Zone likes those who fight, goes for them first," the old man answered. "Guess it might've forgotten 'bout me."

"But we can't stay here forever!" Butters protested. The blond boy was silent, and Kyle found himself curious about what he would say next. Funny how only now was Butters starting to act. Earlier, the other boy was wanting to stay in one place, even if that place had that annoying old man.

"Sir, I've seen a lot of crazy stuff in my life," Butters stated. "Heck, so has Kyle. But we've gotten through all of them in one piece. Not to be disrespectful or nothing, but if there's anyone who can get out of here, it's gonna be us. Hold on, Kyle. I'm gonna find us a way out. Don't you go nowhere!"

And there went Butters, bravely throwing himself out into the Friend Zone. Sometimes, Kyle wondered why he wasn't closer friends with the kid. He was nice, kind, loyal to a fault, and so very cheerful. He also was a bully magnet. And so incredibly naïve. And gullible. And could be cruel to other people once he listened to other people like Cartman. And could get on your nerves over an extended period of time. And could be so lame. And he was grounded half the time by his parents. And…

Wow, no wonder he wasn't closer with Butters. He was still coming up with reasons why he wasn't friends with him.

Still, Butters was his only hope now.

"A shame," the old man commented. "You boys were starting ta grow on me a bit. Now you'll be sucked til yar husks of ya former selves."

Oh God…_Butters_ was his only hope now.

He was doomed.

* * *

><p>Stan was annoyed and frustrated to no end. It was the following day from the day of people watching him all the time, he was no closer to getting into the Friend Zone, and rescuing Kyle. And Butters. Damn it, he had a rope! What could go wrong there!<p>

Obviously something was going on because his totally awesome plan was. Not. Working. At all. And it pissed him off. Like super duper pissed him off.

But that was not all, oh no. The people were still watching him, like they were about to pounce on him at any moment. Like yesterday, Principal Victoria decided she was going to sit in on Garrison's lecture and observe. What she did was observe him, Stan Marsh. All day. And nothing else.

The hallways were not safe either. Any female teacher around was watching him, it didn't matter if they were fifth grade, kindergarten, or pre-K. And don't get him started on the way home. It was starting to scare him when he got to his front door, turned around, and saw a bunch of people just watching him. And all of them were women.

Naturally, Wendy didn't seem to be of help. By that, he meant that Wendy was missing for most of the day. If he didn't know any better, he'd think she was avoiding him. Which was ridiculous because he was an awesome and attentive boyfriend. You couldn't get any better than him.

Obviously, he couldn't be alone. So he stuck around the guys all day long. He didn't go anywhere alone, which kinda made it awkward when he needed to go to the bathroom. Most importantly, he made it home yesterday without being abducted or anything.

Yet, Wendy hadn't gotten back with him, and hadn't friend zoned him that day. Hmm, maybe that was why he was still here and not, you know, rescuing Kyle from the friend zone.

He was starting to get the sense that he was running out of time. He couldn't allow that, not when he was so close he could taste Kyle—no homo—and he wasn't about to let the jaws of defeat claim victory from him. No, no, no, he was not going to give up on Kyle just because there was some kind of conspiracy or some shit standing between him and success.

As he was psyching himself up, ignoring the eyes that were watching him, Stan was about to make a mad dash…pretty much anywhere that wouldn't get him kidnapped. The final bell of school was going to ring any moment now and—what? Oh, were you thinking this was morning or something? Like he would go through an inner monologue at the beginning of school. Better to do it at the end when you could miss vital information your teacher was talking about that might be kinda sorta important on such and such test.

Wait, Garrison was giving them a heads up on what was going to be on the next test? Fuck, he needed to be paying attention here and, you know, not doing an inner monologue or some shit.

Before he could commit, the bell that he had been waiting so long for rang and thus made his efforts futile. Damn it, now he was lost, as if that wasn't always the case.

Oh wait, everyone was starting to leave now, which meant he needed to be leaving too. Because not leaving would put him in a position that would make it more likely for the people watching him all the time to snatch him up. Uh uh, no way, nope, not going to happen.

When motivated, Stan was able to do miracles, or at least do something, whatever that something may be. He was out of that class room, sticking around the guys like it was nobody's business. He could already see the home ec teacher watching him like a hawk, but it didn't seem like she was going to be doing anything so long as he stuck around the guys. Looked like boys still repelled girls when in large groups. Take that stupid—

"Hey Stan, it was so nice of you to go out of your way and meet up with me like this," spoke a very familiar, girly voice coming from his side. Wait, hold on, what was—oh hey, it was Wendy! Her arm was snaking around his, she was pushing him to a side, and…away from the guys…who weren't paying any attention to this. "Come on, Stan, we need to talk about that thing we were talking about, just like you promised me."

Wait, had he promised her he was going to talk to about that thing she just mentioned? And what was that thing? Why couldn't he remember what the thing was? Was she being her girl self right now and being as vague as possible and hey, wait a minute Wendy, why were you pulling him away from safety and Wenddddyyyyyyy!

If you were wondering what was going on, Wendy stopped pushing him. She started shoving him, and shove him she did, right into the girls' restroom. Wait, the girls' restroom? Where he was vulnerable because there were no boys in here? Oh Christ, not the girls restroom—say, this place looked nicer than the boys. So much cleaner, even comfy.

The sound of a lock snapped him out of his thoughts where he found only himself and Wendy, alone thankfully. Wendy, however, wasn't being chatty. Wendy was being all action-driven and what not as she marched past him and kneeled onto the tiled floor, checking under the stalls to see if they were alone. Little weird for her to be doing this, he told himself. What was she up to this time?

As soon as she was back on her feet, he found out.

"Stan, what have you gotten yourself into this time?" Wendy demanded.

Stan blinked. "I…don't know…?"

She muttered something, might have been, "Figures," but he was having trouble hearing her.

"What was that?" he asked.

"Stan, do you know what kind of trouble you're in right now?" Hmm, sounded like the first question she asked, but with a couple words changed. Was this a trick question?

"Is it the bad kind?"

"It isn't the good kind, if there is a good kind of trouble," Wendy snarked. "I've been asking around, Stan. I had to use some contacts I have—" Wendy has contacts? Why would she have contacts? "—and I managed to come up with something. You're over your head this time, Stan."

"Why don't you tell me what it is?" he suggested. He couldn't take the suspense and the vagueness and why did girls have to be vague all the time?

"You were right, Stan. The Friend Zone is a real place."

…

Sorry, he had trouble processing that. Say again?

So the friend zone was actually the Friend Zone, capital letters as in it really was a physical place? Hot damn, he had been onto something! Take that skeptics, whatever the hell skeptics were!

"And you doubted me," he boasted, reveling in the feeling of being right for once while his girlfriend was wrong. It was always the other way around so this was nice.

"I did, Stan, and maybe for good reason," Wendy continued. "From what I've learned, the Friend Zone is some kind of interdimensional reality that guys get sent to when they've been friend zoned really, really badly. Once there, they don't get out. There's something about their life being sucked out of them, but that was really vague for some reason."

Figures. Speaking of vagueness, if there was anyone involved, it was probably a woman because women were vague and all that.

"But that's not the craziest part. There's some kind of cult, a cult made entirely of women. I don't know how far it goes, but they are crazy powerful, as in you are in an incredible amount of danger right now, Stan."

Ha! He knew it! Only women could be so vague that another women had trouble understanding the vagueness and what was this about being in an incredible amount of danger?

He must have been showing what he was thinking on his face because Wendy sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Oh, she did that too?

"Listen, Stan, this cult seems to have a presence here in South Park. Don't think I haven't noticed all those grown women watching you. We need to do something before they decide to act."

Amen to that. "Well, that's what I've been trying to do. Wendy, help me bust into the Friend Zone so that I can bust Kyle out of there. And Butters too. That'll show those cultists."

"And what will that show them?" Wendy asked.

"I…don't know, but it will show them something!" He puffed out his chest in pride. "Now quickly, Wendy, friend zone me so bad that it will send me to the Friend Zone. We're running out of time!"

"I really don't think that's how it works," Wendy said slowly. "Until we get to the bottom of this, you need to go into hiding, where they can't find you."

"I know the perfect place! The Friend Zone! They won't think to check there!" Brilliant, Marsh, brilliant.

"I think, Stan, that that's the last place you want to go. We don't even know all about it. That could put you into more danger," Wendy pointed out.

"Kyle's already in danger!" he protested.

"Besides, it's some alternate dimension. So far all your attempts to get in have failed," Wendy listed out.

Because someone wasn't doing their part, not that he said that out loud or was pointing fingers or anything, _Wendy_.

"At this point, unless you know someone who can travel to different dimensions at will, I think we should go with my plan, and hide you some place safe," Wendy stated.

Please, as if there was anyone who could do something like that. Pfft, that was ridiculous. Was there anyone who could do that? It's not like Jesus was around to heeeee—oooooh shit, he knew someone who might be able to help! And what are the odds, they lived in town too! And they had history! They had history…not the good kind of history either.

Suddenly this wasn't looking like a good idea, but if what Wendy was saying was true, then he didn't have a lot of time as it was. He needed to do something and do it now.

"I think I might know someone who can help," he said. With a sigh, he added, "I just hope he's willing to hear me out."

* * *

><p>If there was one thing you could say about women, they cleaned up good. When Sheila had seen her, Linda looked like a train wreck. Now she looked like the Suzy homemaker that she typically looked like.<p>

All of which would be points in their favor. It had taken time, but they had gotten their audience. You had no idea how many glitters and sparkles they needed to get this far, and in record time. They only had one shot at this, and they needed to work miracles here.

Here, of course, was your stereotypically underground cultist society clubroom, complete with ancient Greco-Roman pillars, decorative torches, calming incense, ceilings so high you couldn't see them, and cloaked and hooded individuals standing apart at equal intervals. Before them rested a staircase, at the top of which stood a fashionably dressed high priestess.

Religious robes designed by the greatest fashion designers of the era; jeweled rings, bracelets, and necklaces cut by the most expensive jewelers adorned fingers and hung around a smooth neck; and lastly a headdress that was so in right now, it was pushing up against your appendix crowned this important figure. It was impressive to look at, and inspired awe and envy among those in attendance.

"Sisters Broflovski and Stotch, it is a pleasure to have you here," the high priestess welcomed them. "I must say, the urgencies of your sparkles has us curious. Do enlighten us to the severity of your issue."

"If it pleases and sparkles, I wish to bring forth the most urgent matter concerning two recent arrivals into the Zone," Sheila stepped forward, explaining their case.

"What of them, Sister Broflovski?" the high priestess asked.

"We ask that you release them." Sheila paused as she heard murmurs and whispers from the hooded and cloaked figures on either side of her and Linda.

"That is not a little request," the high priestess said, picking and choosing her words. "Why do you make it, Sister?"

"They are our sons, Sister," Sheila explained. "They are only ten years old and have barely begun to live. They won't last as long as an adult would, thus less power can be…" she had to stop and force her next word out, as painful as it was to say, "harvested…from them. The two of us, Sister Linda and I, prostrate ourselves and beg for their release."

"I see you do not bring a simple matter before us, Sister Broflovski. Indeed, it is quite the conundrum." The high priestess began to descend the stairs, bringing herself down to equal footing with the two mothers. "The rule is that no one leaves the Zone once they enter it. For millennia, this has never been broken. At the same time, I, we, emphasize with your plight, my Sister. Despite their masculinity, it is to be expected that a mother forms a bond with their son."

By now the high priestess stood before Linda and her, and Sheila could see the truth in the decorated woman's eyes. "You are not the first, though, to come before the rest of us and ask for the release of an occupant. There have been countless other mothers who have come and begged for the same thing you have and countless times they have been refused. You differ in that the age of the occupants is for debate."

Sheila did not know what to expect at this point. So far, it could go either way. The rules could remain absolute or a never before heard of pardon could be issued. She could only hope, for their boys' sake, that they were the exceptions to the rules.

"We both understand that this is not an easy decision to make," Linda spoke.

"Indeed. This calls for a decision from a higher power than I myself," the high priestess. "We must consult the all-knowing Eye."

Sheila shared a look with Linda? The Eye? Must this go that far?

"Come with me, Sisters. Let us settle this matter once and for all," the high priestess invited, turning around to begin ascending the stairs. Sheila swallowed but accepted the invitation, Linda following her lead. Hopefully, they were one step closer to getting their boys back. Just this one obstacle and this would all be over.

From the top of the stairs, it was a trek deeper into this mysterious place. Behind them, a gathering of cloaked and hooded figures followed after them, all wanting to bear witness to how this would play out. It wasn't everyday that the presence of the Eye was required so a circus was to be expected. Sheila could only wish that this had been somebody else in her place.

Eventually they stopped before a large dais. Twin spikes rested on either end, twisted and designed with intricate geometric shapes. They held an ominous air about them, causing a shiver to go down the Jewish woman's spine.

"Oh all-seeing, all-knowing Eye, we come before you to plea for your wisdom," the high priestess announced for all the hear, bowing at the waist towards the dais. "We, your humble subjects, are in need of your assistance in a matter most confounding. Grace us with your presence, and bestow among us your insight."

Behind them, the gaggle of followers began to hum, a few of them chanting in sync. Almost immediately, the air grew heavy as if some _thing_ had entered their world, something unnatural almost. The upper portions of the twisted spikes began to glow softly, then increase in their intensity. Soft flames blossomed from them, flowing out and inward into the space between the spikes and over the dais. The closer the flames grew to one another, the larger they seemed to become until the met seamlessly.

The flames began to shift and writhe, almost forming a circle, no, closer to an oval of sorts, above the dais. Then in the center of the shape taking form over the dais, a black void slitted through the flames.

They were standing before what now looked like a flaming eye, the black slit almost vibrating as it took in the gathering before it.

"Behold, my Sisters! It is the Eye!" the high priestess proclaimed.

The Eye focused on the high priestess. Then, all in attendance could hear a voice echoing throughout the chamber, speaking in a language long forgotten. It sounded like a bunch of gibberish, at least to Sheila it did, yet she understood every meaningless word…somehow. It was a woman thing, guys wouldn't get it.

"All-knowing Eye, we have a question for which we desire an answer," the high priestess said. "These two Sisters beside me have made a request to release two new arrivals into the Friend Zone. These arrivals are their sons, neither of whom have entered puberty just yet. They argue that the life energy exacted from them will not be satisfactory to maintaining the balance of our world. Impart to us what our actions should be."

This was it, the moment of truth. All they could do was pray as the Eye made its decision.

_The two males…_

Sheila jerked, hearing that disembodied voice speak clearer than before, as if right next to her. She could understand every meaningless word, and feel the might behind each and every one.

_The two males…_

Yes, the two males…what? Don't keep them in suspense like this!

_The two males…shall remain in the Friend Zone, and their life energies harvested. No one leaves the Friend Zone for any reason._

What? No! No, you can't—! Kyle!

"Well, you heard the Eye. I'm sorry, but your sons shall remain in the Friend Zone," the high priestess said apologetically.

"Please, reconsider! They are just boys!" she cried out, begging the Eye. "They're too young and can't possibly give any energy! Please, at least let them grow up, please!"

_Do not dispute my decision. Once it has been made, it is final. There will be no reversal. Have a nice day._

"No! Don't do this to them!" she shouted. "Please don't do this!"

"Calm down, my Sister," the high priestess said soothingly, a hand gesturing towards those in attendance. "Your loss is—"

"Shove it up your ass!" Sheila snarled. Several arms and hands restrained her before she could clock the bitch in the fancy outfit. "You let my Kyle out now! Let him out!"

"It is understandable that you are angry, but there is nothing that can be done. The Eye has decided," the high priestess stated. Directing her next words to the crowd, "Take her to a place where she can calm down. Sister Broflovski has had a…trying day."

"No, you can't do this!" Sheila shrieked, struggling against her fellow sisters as she was led away. "Give me back my son! GIVE ME BACK MY SON!"

* * *

><p>Stan only knew of this place because…well, he had been going through a bad time and stalking had been involved. He had been in a bad place, okay? He had done some things he wasn't proud of. Yet, this might be the only thing that could save the day.<p>

It was something he so did not want to do. It was for Kyle, though, so he would have to suck it up.

"Aren't you going to knock or at least ring the bell?" Wendy asked from beside him.

"I'm getting myself ready," Stan told her, staring straight at the door that belonged to an ordinary house. "This isn't going to be easy for me, Wendy."

"Fine, if you're going to be that way." Wendy reached out and rang the doorbell, totally against Stan's wishes because he was the dude here and it should be him who did it. It was a chiver-thing-or-whatever-it-was kind of thing.

The seconds ticked by agonizingly, and Stan was finding out that he was in no way ready for what he was about to do. Nuh uh, nope, this was turning out to be a really bad idea.

"Well, it doesn't sound like anybody's home," he announced, speaking a little too quickly. "Let's get out of—"

The door suddenly opened and Stan cursed all his luck. Of course someone had to be home today of all days. That someone happened to be dressed in all black, had the palest skin you ever saw, and hair that was so black, it made black look like gray or some other color not black. Brown eyes narrowed at him, and Stan had to hold himself back from shoving his foot in his mouth.

"What are _you_ doing here?" a high pitched voice demanded. Ah, yes, he had forgotten about that voice. It was like his voice was constantly cracking.

"Damien," Stan said.

**Rectus. Dominus. Cheezy Poofs.**

"Did you guys hear something?" Wendy asked aloud.

Stan had no idea what she was talking about. He was too busy looking Damien here in the eyes. "You don't like me, and I hate your guts, but right now I need your help."

"And why should I help you?" Damien asked, hostility radiating from him in waves.

"I'm sensing there's some bad blood here," Wendy butted in.

"You could say that, yeah," Stan agreed, not taking his eyes off the other boy.

"You have ten seconds to either tell me what you want or get off my property," Damien warned. "I hope you waste your time so that I can force you off."

"Stan, what did you do to him?" Wendy asked.

"Oh? He hasn't told you?" Damien snarked. "How predictable."

"Hey, I'm not the person who steals best friends around here!" Stan snapped.

"Oh? And what were you doing? Stealing my former best friend, if I remember right. So do tell me why you've come all this way, Stan. I am in no mood to deal with a best friend stealer like you."

"Oh, oh, you did not go there!" Stan growled, squaring his shoulders and balling his fists.

"I did go there. I went there, had a party, took a picture, and left," Damien spat back.

"Hey, hey, hey, enough with the pissing contest!" Wendy interrupted. "Look, Damien, Stan here has a problem and he thought that you are the one that can help him with it. I don't know how, but that's what he thinks."

"And why should I help him?" Damien was playing hardball, it seemed.

"It's actually more about Kyle than it is Stan," Wendy explained.

"Wait. What about Kyle?" Now Damien's attention was fully on his girlfriend. Stan wondered for a second if this unholy son of a bitch was thinking about becoming a girlfriend stealer because he could so picture this asshole doing it. "Is Kyle in trouble? Tell me!"

"Kyle somehow got himself stuck in the Friend Zone," Wendy told him.

"The Friend Zone? You mean that alternate dimension of hopelessness and despair where all males are sent when they get turned down by their female counterparts?" Damien questioned.

"You know of it?" Wendy looked shocked.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"So are you gonna help?" Stan cut in, aggravated to no end that _his_ girlfriend was getting all buddy-buddy with the asshole of the century, and doing it in front of his face! Hello! Tick tock, tick tock, now was not the time for this kind of shit!

"Of course I'll help," Damien said.

Stan was so ready to argue, but fortunately, the Antichrist's words stopped him from doing that thing he didn't want to do. You know, put his foot in his mouth. Nice save there, Stan.

"You will?" he asked excitedly.

"On one condition," Damien added, giving a small smirk.

Alarms were blaring in his head. "What condition?" he asked warily.

"Oh, it's nothing much," Damien said casually. "Only that I can be Kyle's best friend."

The seconds ticked by…

"Oh fuck that," Stan spat.

"Stan!" Wendy reprimanded him.

"No, fuck that," Stan repeated, scowling at his girlfriend who was supposed to be on _his_ side, not this douchebag's. "You can go to hell," he shot at Damien.

"Been there, done that," Damien replied.

"Stan, be reasonable," Wendy tried to mediate.

"Uh uh, no way, not with that best friend stealer," Stan refused, crossing his arms over his chest while glaring at the pale-ass asshole over there.

"You can't be serious, Stan. You're doing this now?" Wendy deadpanned.

"You know, now that you've told me what's going on, I could go save Kyle on my own," Damien mentioned.

Stan froze. Aw shit, he already gave all his cards away, and now this unholy douchebag could take all the credit for rescuing Kyle, and he could so totally see Kyle buying it, just like last time. God damn it, he was in a corner and Damien had him by his balls. His balls!

"Make it a friend and we're in business," Stan offered.

"Best friend," Damien stated.

"Friend," Stan retorted.

"Best friend."

"Friend."

"Best friend."

"Friend."

"Super best friend."

"De—eeee oh no you don't! I see what you did there! Friend. With benefits. Final offer."

"What's a friend with benefits?" Damien asked, childlike wonder in his eyes.

What a dumbass, not knowing what a friend with benefits was! It was…it was a…what was a friend with benefits anyway? Oh crap, he didn't know what that was! Umm, umm, okay, think of something Stan! Make some shit up!

"I guess…you'll…have to find out for yourself!"

Oh yeah, you're the man, Stan.

Damien eyed him suspiciously, as if weighing his very soul. "Alright. If I help, I get to be friends with benefits with Kyle and no take backsies."

"Deal," Stan agreed, taking off a glove, spitting into his hand, and holding it out to Damien. Shrugging, Damien spat into his own hand then clasped onto Stan, sealing the deal with a shake.

"Boys are so disgusting," Wendy muttered.

"Come inside," Damien invited as he opened the door to his home, standing aside to let the two of them in. "There's much to do and little time to do it in."

Alright, it was go time! Kyle, he's on his way! Hold on!

* * *

><p>Author's Note: If you guessed correctly, then you'll have figured out that the all-seeing Eye is a parody of the Eye of Sauron from <em>The Lord of the Rings<em>. Also, if you're having trouble understanding that last scene, check out _My New Best Friend_. The answers are there for that.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.

Warning: language, violence

_You unlock this door with the key of rejection. Beyond it is another dimension: a dimension of frustration, a dimension of agony, a dimension of blue balls. You're moving into a land of both shadow and misfortune, of fear and despair; you've just crossed over into the Friend Zone._

Chapter 5

Hope was starting to dwindle here in the Friend Zone. Despite all his efforts, Butters had been unable to find the way out that he had promised Kyle to find. That really made him sore, you know, to break a promise like that. It didn't help that Kyle was looking worse now than when he had left him.

Also, he was starting to feel a little tired himself. He couldn't explain it, really. He hadn't been feeling this way earlier. He might—yawn—need to take a nap. Get some of his strength back. First, he needed to check on Kyle and make sure he was all right.

Kyle wasn't all right. He was far from all right. It scared some life right back into the blond boy. When he had last seen him, Kyle had only looked tired. Now, his skin had a grayish tint to it, he could barely get his eyes half open, and forget about talking. From the sound of it, it was like Kyle was fighting to say each and every word.

_Nothing can be done, once tha Friend Zone has it's claws on ya. This is only tha beginning. Fortunately, maybe unfortunately, it's a slow process, ya see. Those qwazersteric generators don't fool around; they like ta get every last drop outta ya._

The old man hadn't been kidding. He knew so much about this place…maybe he knew of a way to help Kyle!

"Looks like he's on his last legs," the old man told him. "Nothing can be done far him at this point. Best make him comfortable."

That wasn't reassuring.

"But—but! But there has to be something we can do!" he argued.

"Sorry, sonny, but this is tha way it is. Nothing we can do for 'im," was the reply.

Think, Butters, think! There's gotta be something you can do! Something! Anything!

"What about those qwasaratic things?" he asked.

"Qwazersteric generators," the old man corrected.

"Yeah, those things. Those are the things that suck up our insides, right?"

"Sucks up our life energies, yes."

"Right, so where are they? Maybe if we can find them, we can do something to them so that they stop sucking Kyle's life out of him!"

"A good idea, 'cept tha qwarersteric generators aren't here. Thar in tha real world, where we can't get to them."

"How do you know that?"

"Just guessin'. All I know is that they aren't here. Otherwise somebody would have done something ta them."

"Butters…" Butters stopped what he was doing with the old man and turned his attention to his sick friend. Oh Jesus, Kyle was looking worse by the second. "Don't… Don't worry…about me. Save…yourself."

"Kyle! What are you saying?" he cried out. No, no, no, no, no, Kyle couldn't be giving up right now, could he?

"Too late…for…me." Kyle closed his eyes, scaring Butters more than he was already. "Not…going to…make it…"

"Don't you talk like that!" Keep it together, Butters. You needed to keep it together, if only for Kyle's sake. "We're going to get out of here! Both of us! Just hold on a little longer!"

"Sorry ta burst yar bubble, son, but I'm afraid yar also startin' ta show some signs," the old man piped up helpfully.

"Sir? With all due respect, shut up." Butters frowned at the old man, a little part of him horrified at what he said, but the rest of him was fed up. He didn't care anymore about what the Friend Zone was supposed to do or women being in charge or anything else. The only thing he cared about right now was helping his friend. The only way to do that was to get out of here. Being told you were next was not helping.

"As you like," the old man shrugged. Huh, maybe he was used to it.

Okay, back to Kyle now. Oh boy, was it him or was Kyle looking worse by the second? "Hang on a little longer, Kyle." Think, Butters, what else could you say? "Why…I bet the others are looking mighty hard for us. Maybe they can find a way in so that they can let us out so you have to hold on a little longer."

"Nobody…knows…we're here," Kyle practically wheezed.

"Don't talk like that, Kyle. Someone out there has got to know we're here," Butters protested, though deep inside, he knew that the chances of anyone out in the real world knew about their situation.

Even if they did, who'd try to help them?

And who could?

* * *

><p>This was bad, real bad. Linda bit her lip to hold in her frustration at their failure. Their quest for clemency had failed, and now Sheila was on the verge of a breakdown.<p>

Linda Stotch understood too well; her little Butters was doomed to being trapped in a limbo where he would have everything that made him Butters ripped away and used to power the dominance of woman kind. It wasn't fair for her son to have to go through this when he hadn't even begun to truly live.

They couldn't do nothing, though. This was their boys' lives on the line! They were mothers, and everything they had been taught was that mothers went through Hell and back for their children. This time, they would be having to go up against the system itself, not the phony one that everyone was distracted with, but the real one.

They would have to go against all womanhood and the all-seeing, all-knowing Eye in order to break into an interdimensional realm from which nothing escaped from. No problem.

Who was she kidding, they were only two housewives! Two housewives whose only real aspirations were to raise their families, and maybe start a war or two to make the world safer for their children. What could they possibily do against their Sisters?

It was hopeless, Linda knew it, but then what would a mother do? The answer was obvious, but how would they go about it?

Maybe if she could get Sheila…

"Sheila?" she spoke up. "What can we do about this? We're not giving up, are we?"

"You heard the Eye, there's nothing we can do," Sheila said through her sniffs. It was as if she was about to start breaking out in tears any second.

"But it's our boys, Sheila! We aren't going to give them up, are we?" Linda pressed.

If only she were a more…strong-willed person, someone who could lead and knew what to do, she wouldn't be here trying to talk to Sheila like this. That wasn't the person Linda was though; she was always the follower, the person who submitted to others. Sheila was her opposite; a person who could and did lead on a regular basis. She needed to give the Jewish woman whatever it was that drove her to do the things she did and she needed to do that five minutes ago.

"We've been ruled against; you were there. Once the Eye has made its decision, there's no changing it." Was Sheila really giving up? This woman didn't know the definition of giving up!

"So you agree to go along with this?" Linda asked.

"Of course I don't!" Sheila snorted, some of that fire she was known for leaking out. "I despise it with all my being!"

"Then if you don't agree with it, aren't you going to do something about it?" Linda continued with her questioning. She was on the right track, she knew it.

"You're here, you do something about it," Sheila retorted.

Not…the answer she was going for. Damn it, Sheila, don't make this harder than it already is.

"And what can I do, Sheila? I'm a woman who obeys her husband, the complete opposite of the world that we women have made," Linda scoffed at the other woman. "I know that women are really in charge, but I always listen to Stephan. Mostly. I've…I've put myself into such a place that I can't do much of anything. You on the other hand, you…"

"You…what?" Sheila asked.

"You know what needs to be done but you don't sit around and let others do it for you. You do it yourself. It's…it's something I admire about you. Even though every one else is intimidated or put off by it, at the end of the day, you're the one who's standing with the accomplishment and not them," Linda began to explain before it all came pouring out of her. It was like once she got started, she couldn't stop. "Right now, the only thing that matters is saving my Butters and your Kyle. I wouldn't know how to do that, but at this point, I'm willing to do anything, even if I have to die for it."

Sheila stared at her, her face giving away nothing of her thoughts. What could possibly be going through this woman's mind? Linda didn't know and all she could do was wait to find out.

"We…could buy our sons more time," Sheila began, her brow creasing in thought. Linda waited with bated breath for Sheila to finish. "The more time they have…the better chance we have of getting them out."

"How do we do that?" she asked.

"By sabotaging the qwazersteric generators so that they don't leech off our boys' lives," Sheila concluded. "If the generators don't work, they'll have to be shut down until they're fixed. And if the generators are shut down…"

"…everyone will be distracted by the generators and not notice us swiping our boys," Linda concluded.

"Exactly," Sheila confirmed. "Hurry, while everyone thinks we're here. Hopefully they're still distracted by the gossip and won't notice us sneaking around."

* * *

><p>Stan didn't know what he was expecting the inside of the Antichrist's home to look like, but this wasn't it. It looked so…normal looking. Except for what looked like Renaissance paintings showing some very nasty stuff in them, the place looked like his house.<p>

There wasn't some immature father wandering around, was there?

"This way," Damien commanded as he led the way deeper into the house.

"Where are we going?" Wendy asked.

"If we are to break into the Friend Zone, we're going to need reinforcements," Damien answered her, that high pitched voice of his grating on Stan's nerves. "I wouldn't put it past our enemies to have defenses so some cannon fodder will be helpful."

"Cannon fodder?" Wendy repeated.

"Only the best for Kyle," Damien said as he approached the door to the basement. What? How did he know that was the door to the basement when no one had ever told him about it? Well, the layout of this place was identical to his house, along with every house in South Park, so it stood to reason that this was the door to the basement.

Hey, he could learn things when he cared.

However, he might have been wrong on this one. Let him explain. Damien gripped the doorknob, twisted his wrist, and pulled open the door. Instead of a set of stairs that he was expecting, there was a horrific landscape of fire, brimestone, and overall Hell. The multitude of screams could make anyone go deaf.

"Father! Can I have some demons?" Damien yelled into the portal, cupping his hands around his mouth.

This was so weird, Stan didn't know where to put it on his list of weird ass shit he had witnessed. Naturally, things had to get weirder when a masculine yet motherly voice answered.

"What do you need demons for, sweetie?"

"Father! Don't call me that in front of other people!" the Antichrist whinned back.

"Aw, but munchkin, how else am I supposed to show my parental affection for you?" the disembodied voice of Satan himself argued.

"I'm with people!" Damien shouted. "So how about the demons?"

"You have company? What have I told you about inviting people over without my permission? They could get themselves hurt or eternally damned if they aren't careful!"

"Father! The demons! Can I have them?" Seemed like Stan wasn't the only one with a short amount of patience for their father.

"Why do you want them?"

"I'm going to save my _best friend_," Damien shot a smug look at Stan, immediately destroying any inkling of amity between them, "from the Friend Zone. I need some back up in case shit hits the fan!"

"What have I told you about using that language when you have guests?" Oh, of all the things that Satan had to pick up on, it was the foul language. God fucking damn it, are you fucking serious about this shit? Fuck!

"You haven't told me anything about that!" Damien protested.

"I haven't? I could've sworn…"

"Father. The demons. To save my best friend. Can. I. Have. Them?"

"Huh? Oh. Sure. Why not. Knock yourself out. Just be sure to send them back by eight. That's your bedtime young man."

There was a growl of frustration from Damien; Stan completely understood where he was coming from, but he couldn't help but enjoy it. Suffer, you unholy asshole, suffer!

"Thank you, Father," Damien forced out.

As funny as that all was, it was about time. Time to get this show on the road and save Kyle. Looking away from the hellish sight of, well, Hell, it was by chance that he saw a shadow pass behind one of the window shades that blocked sight of the outside. What had that been?

Leaving his place from beside Wendy, where he had been during Damien's humiliation a la Satan, forgot to give that little detail earlier, he headed towards the window to get a better look of what was going on. He told himself he'd check on Wendy after that. See how she was handling all this.

Peeking through the blinds, Stan looked around then jerked away from the window. Aw shit.

"Hey, whatever you're doing over there, hurry it up!" he called back to his partners-in-crime. "We have company!"

* * *

><p>This was never an enjoyable experience, but every once in a while, a person had to get their hands dirty. In this case, it was the responsibility of Principal Victoria to take care of a few persons of interest and deal with them.<p>

It was a shame that this time, it was a pair of children, students at her school to be more precise. She was a person that, even though her job was trying at times, liked to think of herself as a role model if not a guide. She wanted to be the kind of person who helped children navigate the world, and reach their full potential as humans. Discipline may be required every once in a while because, really, how else were children to learn unless they made mistakes?

That said, if it were necessary that she get her hands dirty, well, so be it. Looking at the bright side, this could be a learning experience for the offending students. She'd make the recommendation herself.

"Okay, we have three of them in there. I want them all captured, preferrably unharmed," she instructed to her fellow Sisters. "These are children so we have to be gentle with them. Set to stun, not kill."

She and her Sisters adjusted their modified tasers to low voltages. As if they could afford tranquilizers on their budget.

"I am about to make contact. I'll see if I can't talk them down first, but if it goes nowhere, I'll expect you coming in to back me up. Are we clear?" she concluded her instructions.

Her Sisters, all in their every day, casual to business casual attire, nodded. Each held a taser in one hand, hiding the devices behind their legs so as not to spook their quarry. Never underestimate the capabilities of housewives. They packed more heat than you could ever imagine.

With all that settled, Principal Victoria took her place at the front door and rasied a hand to knock. It would be best if she was the first person they saw. A familiar face went a long ways into keeping a person calm—

The front door exploded, throwing her backwards, and onto the snow covered ground. Her Sisters either were thrown back by the explosion or by themselves in an attempt to evade the worst of it. Lifting her head up, the principal took a headcount to make sure they hadn't lost anyone. Once that was done, her attention was redirected towards the explosion. What could have caused that?

Standing at her feet was a boy in all black, and…she had trouble recalling the name of this child. He definitely wasn't one of her regulars, like Eric Cartman. Also, she would have remembered a child with glowing red eyes. Speaking of those eyes, they were creeping her out.

Screams from her Sisters distracted her momentarily. To her shock, demonic creatures were attacking them with extreme prejudice. The tasers weren't even working!

A small yet unnaturally strong hand grabbed her chin, and turned her back to a pair of very evil looking, red eyes. "I will give you one chance, and only one," a very high pitched voice said. "Where is the Friend Zone?"

* * *

><p>The two mothers were in a hurry. It took everything they had to avoid being spotted, but the worst was behind them. At least for the time being. Now the real work begin.<p>

They had found the qwasersteric generators **THE FOLLOWING IS A LONG, RAMBLING DESCRIPTION OF WHAT QWASERSTERIC GENERATORS LOOK LIKE. IF YOU ARE A MALE, YOU WILL NOT UNDERSTAND ANY PART OF THIS DESCRIPTION SO DON'T EVEN TRY. IF YOU ARE A FEMALE, YOU WILL BE ABLE TO DIVINE THE DESCRIPTION JUST BY READING THIS PARAGRAPH.**

"Are you ready, Linda?" Sheila didn't look at the other housewife, her eyes only for the generators.

"I was born ready," Linda answered.

All it took was a quick glance around to find something, anything they could use to aid them in their self-imposed mission. Conveniently, there was a work table nearby complete with all sorts of large tools. Their purpose was to maintain the qwasersteric generators, but for these two women, they were instruments of destruction.

With one taking a large, double-ended wrench, and the other a small mallet, the mothers scorned made their way to the generators.

* * *

><p>Kyle took in a large gasp of air, feeling better for some reason or another. He wasn't as tired as before, not to say that he still wasn't. It was as if he had a little more…energy.<p>

"Kyle?" Butters asked worriedly.

"Something's happened," Kyle said, his gut instinct screaming at him.

"How do you mean?" Butters pressed.

"I feel…better. I don't know why." He looked at his hands as if the two appendages held the answers to all his questions.

"That don't sound right," the old man commented.

"Nobody asked you," Kyle huffed.

"I'm just sayin'. It's not like tha Friend Zone changes its mind and starts to suck the life force outta some othar poor soul," the old man pointed out.

"What do you think's going on, Kyle?" Butters was biting his lip in worry, reasonably concerned about this turn in events.

Kyle couldn't give him an answer.

* * *

><p>Okay, the generators were taken care of. The two mothers looked upon their work in triumph.<p>

The generators were beaten in, partially dismantled, and as an added bonus, disconnected from the dardenelles that would have absorbed the marlocks. Neither of them really knew how this was all put together or how it all worked; all that mattered was that it all broke the same.

And so far no one knew what they had done. Now, time to leave the scene of their crime before they were caught red-handed. Women could be very unforgiving, you know.

"That should buy us some time," Sheila announced. "Now if we could only find the entrance to the Friend Zone, we should be able to—"

There was a rumble, one that shook the room the two women were in. It interrupted the Broflovski matriarch's declaration, a rude thing to do, but it was enough to take their minds off what they were up to.

"What was that?" Linda asked, unsure if her question was rhetorical or not.

"I hope it's not because of anything we did," Sheila replied. "The last thing we need to do is put our boys into further danger."

* * *

><p>Stan was not sure if this was what he had wanted. Yes, he wanted to save Kyle and all, but the last thing he had expected was to be following after a band of demons as they assaulted the bad guys', or in this case girls', hidden base.<p>

Those demons weren't playing around either. They were all maiming and killing everything in sight. The women defenders were putting up their best, but their best wasn't good enough. There was blood, there were limbs scattered around, there was smoke and fire, and it was all chaotic. It was like he was in a war zone. Again.

"Damien? Is this really all necessary?" Wendy asked, eyes darting around at the mayhem. Stan had to give her credit, though. She was handling this better than he thought she would.

"Hm? This? This is textbook," Damien shrugged in answer. "They haven't been up on Earth in a long time. Let them get it out of their systems first, then we can get down to business."

"But what if they kill someone important?" Wendy demanded.

"You know, I didn't think of that," Damien replied, looking thoughtful.

"Dude, you're an asshole," Stan stated. "Tell these guys to start taking prisoners or something. How else am I going to help Kyle?"

"Why is everything about you?" Damien retorted.

"Not the time for this, I swear to God," Wendy interrupted. "Also, Stan has a point. If everyone's…dead, we can't help our friends."

"There's just no pleasing some people," Damien muttered under his breath, but nevertheless he gave the order.

"To the death! Every one of us!" a woman, who wore the outfit of a housewife and was wielding a sword of all things, declared, rallying her troops.

"_Sic semper tyrannis_!" another with a submachine gun screamed, firing slugs of lead at the demons. "Say hello to my little friend!"

Huh, looks like bullets did have an effect on demons. Those were some impressive fountains of blood coming out of them. Was the armor holding up? Nope, no, apparently armors was not an effective shield for bullets. Who would have thought?

"I have to do everything myself, don't I?" Damien complained. His eyes lit up, fire blazing in them as he glared at the woman with the machine gun. Said woman burst into flames and began running and screaming about.

Straight ahead, a woman wearing the most ridiculous outfit Stan had even seen made her presence known when she began bellowing, "How dare you sully the sacred ground of this holy place with the blood of my Sisters! Who has the balls, huh? Show yourself!"

Well, well, well, this must be the lady in charge. Stan adjusted his brown coat, making himself presentable as he began to answer the lady's challenge. Before he could, Damien beat him to the punch by doing that weird supernatural, Antichrist thing of his, and appearing right in front of her without making a sound.

"You called?" Damien asked in a high pitched, sickly sweet tone of voice.

"What the? You? A creepy boy is responsible for this travesty?" the woman in the weird outfit demanded.

"You have something of mine. I want him back. So give him back, and we'll call it even," Damien proposed. Stan gritted his teeth in anger. What was that asshole doing stealing his thunder? He was the one who made all this possible! And he wasn't going to stand here like some n00b while all the credit, that should rightfully go to him, was stolen by that bastard up there.

So that's what he did. Leaving his place from beside Wendy, he marched his way through all the violence, sidestepping and ducking under the swinging swords, tasers, weird-ass weapons that he couldn't put a name to, and the demons, until he reached a flight of stairs that had remained untouched by all the mayhem. He continued his march up the stairs until he reached Damien's side where he put everything on the record straight.

"No, I'm the one responsible for all this! You have my best friend in the Friend Zone, and I want him out." There, now everything was set straight.

"Who the hell are you?" the woman in the weird outfit stopped in her stare off with Damien to ask him.

"Like I said, I'm the guy responsible. You should be talking with me!" He jerked his thumb at his chest to further his point, whatever that point may be.

"Impudent, little brat. Do you know who I am? I am the high priestess of—"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, you're super important, get over it. Now give me back my best friend before I have this guy," he pointed right at Damien, "kick your ass."

"You are making a lot of assumptions here, Stan," Damien commented, glancing at him from the corner of his eye.

"I should have known. You _men_ seek to upset our rule, and force us to be your sex slaves!" the high priestess lady accused. "I knew this day would come, and I am prepared to give up my life to preserve the order that we women have painstakingly crafted."

"Dude, I don't care about all that. I just want you to let my best friend out of the Friend Zone. And Butters," Stan told her, blinking dumbly at the crazy lady.

"I only agree on one of those things, and it is the part about saving _my_ best friend," Damien added.

"You are weak in the ways of the Jedi mind trick, _men_. My mind is too strong for those parlor tricks!" the high priestess proclaimed.

Stan shared a look with Damien. Okay, this lady was cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs here.

"You have three seconds to show me how to get into the Friend Zone, or I will show you a hell that will make your menstrual cycle seem like a walk in the park," Damien gave his ulti…ultra…warning to the high priestess person of unknown importance.

"Kid, this is no time for play pretend," the high priestess retorted.

"So you mock the power of my father, eh? Prepare for cramps in three, two, one!" Damien's red eyes began to glow once more.

The high priestess lady bent over, arms around her stomach area as she groaned. "Oh God! The cramps! The cramps!"

"Suffer mortal!" Damien reveled. "Now for the blood!"

Hold on, blood? What the hell did he mean by—wait why was there a growing bloodstain where her crotch would be?

"Let the bloatedness consume you!" Damien declared. "Nausea is your best friend!"

The woman groaned, but forced her head up to glare at the Antichrist. "I've given birth…to two…anatomically correct children. This…is…nothing!"

"Fine, if that's how you want to play it," Damien growled, the intensity of his glowing eyes increasing. "Let's see how your self-esteem handles this!"

"No! Not my self-esteem! Anything but my self-esteem!" the high priestess begged.

"You know what I want! Show me the way to the Friend Zone!" Okay, Stan had to take a step away because Damien was looking pretty evil right about now.

"I can't because only the Eye knows!" the high priestess whimpered as a cramp wracked her body.

"Then take me to the Eye," Damien ordered.

"Very…well," the high priestess gasped out. "This…way…would you…stop the cramps, please?"

At last! They were finally getting somewhere! Don't worry, Kyle! Help was on the—whoa, that was quite a puddle of blood there. Someone better clean that up. Stepping around the puddle, he followed after the high priestess, but not Damien because he was totally not Kyle's best friend no matter what he said.

His thoughts, of which he was way too in to, came to a crashing halt when they stood before the Eye that the high priestess whatever her name was mentioned earlier. The fiery…eye, he supposed, stared back at the three of them, the void that made up its pupil switching between him and Damien.

"Peter Jackson is going to sue somebody," Stan said the first thing that came to his mind.

"This is the Eye," Damien said, not looking the least bit impressed.

"Grovel before it while you still can," the high priestess ordered. "Only the Eye knows of the ins and outs of the Friend Zone. Only it can—"

"Do something useful and make me a sandwich," Damien interrupted.

"Oh snap!" Stan exclaimed. Dude, that was not cool. Not cool.

"What?!" the high priestess whatever shrieked.

Stepping around her, Damien approached the Eye without any sense of awe or respect. "Let's get to the point. Show me the way to the Friend Zone, you poor excuse for a Clear Eyes mascot."

_No. You have not fulfilled the criteria to enter, male._

Whoa, where had that voice come from? Freaky.

"What criteria is that of what you speak?" Damien demanded.

"Your romantic intentions towards the opposite sex must be turned down in favor of a platonic relationship," the high priestess informed him. "There is no other way. That's why when a girl dumps their boyfriend by giving them the friendship spiel, they don't go to the Friend Zone. There has to be no prior relationship before. Serves as an attachment, like a rope or an anchor."

Huh, that was interesting and— what?! Is that why he hadn't been able to get into the Friend Zone before? Because Wendy was his girlfriend whom he already had a relationship with? That…actually explained why Token was still around, walking like a zombie and all. So his awesome plan had that one fatal flaw in it. No wonder why he hadn't been able to save Kyle yet!

And Butters. Always forgetting Butters.

"Make an exception," Damien ordered.

_No_.

"And why not?"

_Because I don't want to._

"That's bullshit!" Stan yelled at the Eye.

_Well I don't have to do what you tell me to. Go away, you're bothering me._

"Oh, I'll show you bothering," Damien growled, his eyes doing that freaky thing again.

_Wait. What are you doing? You can't do that! Bad touch! Bad touch! That does NOT go there! No! NOOOOOOOOoooooooo!_

* * *

><p>It was…almost indescribable. From their small patch of earth floating in the middle of nowhere, the three prisoner gazed upon a hellish red maw that had opened up in this empty place.<p>

That had definitely not been there before.

"What the heck is that, Kyle?" Butters asked, quivering in fear.

"I don't know," Kyle answered, not taking his eyes off the sight of that thing. Well, that wasn't entirely true as he shot a quick look at the old man, hoping for some kind of explanation.

"Don't look at me; this ain't ever happened 'fore," the old man said.

"Is it me, or is it growing?" Butters looked like he was about to have a heart attack at any moment. "Oh hamburgers, you don't think that's a bad thing, right?"

"Hey, something's coming this way!" Kyle pointed directly at the red thing, whatever it was. More specifically, it was at a black dot that was heading directly towards them. It was moving fast, picking up speed as if it had spotted them. Kyle squinted his eyes, hoping to get a better look at the thing.

At this point, anything would be welcomed.

"…yllllleeeee!"

"Do you hear something?" Butters asked, frowning as he tried to focus on it.

"…yyyylllleeeee!"

"Say, that almost sounds like your name," Butters remarked.

"What the hell is it?" Kyle wondered.

"Hey, that looks like a kid!" Butters exclaimed. "They're heading right for us!"

Kyle took a step back as a kid all in black landed right in front of him, and—

"Damien!" Kyle gasped out, recognizing him. "What are you doing here?!"

Indeed, it was Damien, a kid he knew at school, and had hung out with a while back. They had parted a while back though that was due to Damien eating one of his friends, and that was something that Kyle would not stand.

"I came for you, Kyle," Damien said, breathing deeply as if he had done something physically demanding. "I heard that you were in trouble, so I did everything in my power to find you."

"Why would you do that?" Especially since they weren't the closest friends anymore.

"Because you're my friend, my best friend," Damien answered, smiling at him with dark brown eyes gazing at him warmly. "Why wouldn't I want to help?"

"Aww," Butters gushed.

Kyle ignored him. This was a moment, and there were an infinite number of ways this could be screwed up. He opened his mouth to speak—

"Ey! Ey! Hold up!"

What the? Stan! What was he doing here? And clinging to the side of this piece of earth, and…oh, must have aimed too low. Now he got it. Still didn't explain what he was doing here.

Pulling himself up onto the piece of earth, the boy in the red poof ball hat hurried over, shoved Damien, and grabbed him into a bro hug. "Kyle! You have no idea what I had to do to rescue you! It was insane!"

"Yeah, I missed you too," Kyle said, patting Stan's back a little awkwardly. "Are…are you going to let go anytime soon?"

"Yeah, are you?" Damien added. Was it his imagination or was Damien glaring at Stan?

"I'm the best friend here, That means I have best friend privileges!" Stan threw at the Antichrist.

"Well he's my best friend too," Damien argued.

"Guys? Guys!" Kyle intervened before this could go any further. Now with their attentions on him, "I think I have had enough with being friends. In fact, I don't think I want friends anymore."

"What? Kyle?" Stan pulled away, looking hurt. Whether he knew it or not, Damien had the same look on his face.

"No, I don't have any friends from this point on," Kyle continued. "The only thing I do want now…are bros."

Now there were looks of confusion on the boys' faces, Butters included.

"I have been stuck in a place called the _Friend_ Zone. Being friends is what got me here," Kyle reminded them. "Bros, however, are different than friends. They're better in fact, because bros are always there for you. They don't turn your back on you, and they always choose you over their hoes. You guys have definitely earned the right to be my bros, dudes."

"What about me, Kyle?" Butters pipped up.

"Yeah, sure, you're my bro too," Kyle shrugged.

"An' me?" the old man spoke.

Kyle had to think about that for a second. "I guess. Why not?"

"Aw, it's like we're one, big, happy family," Butters cheered.

"Not the time, Butters," Kyle said. "Now can we get out of here already before we over stay our welcome?"

* * *

><p>"What the fuck is that?" That was the first question Kyle uttered once he had finally returned to the real world. What he had stepped out of to do that was a giant eye made of fire that made him think Peter Jackson was so going to sue somebody.<p>

"That? Some kind of Eye that's the boss of this place," Stan answered him, shrugging his shoulders. "Kinda a bitch if you ask me."

"Stop! You don't know what you're doing!" a human-looking person that Kyle assumed to be charge cried out.

There were some disembodied choking sounds, but that could have been Kyle's imagination. It wasn't as if that Eye thing could talk, right?

"Woo boy! It's great to be back in the real world, isn't it?" Butters said.

"Never thought I'd leave that place," the old man added his two cents in.

Amen to that. For a while, Kyle thought he was going to be a goner. Sure showed them what for!

"Oh God, what have you done? What have you done?" moaned the high priestess person. "This is unnatural!"

What was up with her? Was it her time of the month, whatever that meant, or something?

"Kyle!" an all too familiar voice shouted. Considering the circumstances, Kyle was glad to actually see his mother running up to him. No, he was not going to question what she was doing here or why. Quite frankly, she was a face that was worth seeing right now.

"Mom!" he responded as he practically leapt into her arms.

"Butters! Oh, Butters, there you are!" Butters' mom sobbed as she held Butters in a hug as well. "I never thought I would see you again."

Now this was a scene worthy of an Oscar. Not that there was any pandering going on, nope.

_Aw, dude, lame… Lame…_

The Eye thing was doing something weird. The black void that was its pupil was convulsing, the fires that made up the thing becoming unstable. Slowly, the Eye began to shrink into a small ball of white light. Just as it was about to wink out of existence, a loud, wet fart spewed out along with several turds that splattered onto the dais.

Once that was done, the white light was gone as if it had never been.

"Oh my God, you killed it! You killed the Eye!" the high priestess shrieked.

Kyle traded looks with Stan. "Um, we're bastards?"

"Do you not know what you have done?! You just upsetted the natural order! Thanks a lot!" the high priestess was practically sobbing at this point. "Now how else are we to maintain control of the world without the Eye to guide us? You've ruined us! Ruined!"

"You know what? Now would be a time for a 'I learned something today' speech, but in your case, you can go fuck yourself," Stan said. "Really. All this is is some fucked up shit."

"So the day has been saved. What do I do with the demons now?" Damien asked.

Glancing around and finally seeing the carnage all about, Kyle decided for once to keep his mouth shut this time. He really didn't want to know anymore.

* * *

><p>They were back in South Park, and the less said how they got there, the better. However, there was some unfinished business left between Stan and Wendy, though Stan hadn't known about that until Wendy had approached him.<p>

"I'm sorry for not believing you earlier, Stan," Wendy said.

Huh? She hadn't believed him before? When had that happened? He had thought that she had been behind him one hundred percent!

"Well…I guess that means that you understand that I know what I'm talking about now," Stan said.

"That's not…look, Stan, earlier, when you were talking about the Friend Zone like it was a real place, and it is or was a real place, I thought you were losing your mind at the time," Wendy explained herself. "And when those women started stalking you, I'm sorry I didn't believe you then either. And I'm sorry for not trying harder to help you get into the Friend Zone."

All of these apologies were stroking his ego right now. Yep, he had been right. Right in a relationship where he usually was wrong for some reason or another. It felt great to be right for once. Keep those apologies coming because he could use some more.

Nah, that would be conceited of him. It would be better if he let her off easy this time. At least that way, he could rub it in her face later.

"It's cool," he offered, dismissing her of her past doubts. "All that matters is that I have my best friend back."

"Too bad it has to come at the expense of women," Wendy sighed. "To be honest, I always thought that if women were in charge, the world would be a better place. Except this is the world where women were really in charge, and they messed that up too. I guess, in the end, it doesn't matter who's really in charge because the world will be messed up either way."

Hm? It looked like Wendy had been saying something. He hadn't been paying too much attention.

He gave a noncommittal hum in an attempt to make it look like he had heard her. Hopefully she wouldn't ask him his opinion on what she said. Then he would be screwed.

"Enough about that, though. There's something I'm curious about," Wendy said, changing the subject. Oh good. Now that he was listening, he'd be able to give her an answer.

"I noticed that you didn't get along with Damien. What are you going to do now now that Kyle and he are friends?" Wendy asked. Then, as an added thought, "With benefits?"

Stan froze up, eyes widening. Oh shit, he had forgotten all about that! And he hated Damien's, that friend stealing son of a bitch, guts!

"Stan, are you okay?" Wendy asked in concern when he didn't respond to her.

No, Wendy, he was not okay.

* * *

><p>It was great to be back home, Butters thought to himself. No more having to be stuck in an alternate dimension of misery and sorrow. Not for good ol' Butters! Nope, he was back home in the arms of his parents who were hugging him from either side without looking like they were going to be letting go of him anytime soon.<p>

He didn't have a problem with that.

"Oh Butters! Oh son! It's great to have you back!" his father sobbed into his shoulder. "You have no idea how long I've been suffering!"

Yeah, let it all out, dad. It really sounds like you've been through a lot.

"I can't imagine what we would have done if you hadn't been found," his mother continued. He noticed that she was leaving a lot out, but that was alright. The sooner he could put this all in the past, the better.

He was done with girls, let him tell you. If he hadn't tried to ask Annie out, he wouldn't have been in this mess in the first place. Kyle was right, he needed to get himself some bros instead of hoes. Huh, what were hoes, he wondered.

Whatever they were, they didn't sound good.

"It's been so horrible!" his father picked up when his mother didn't continue. "You don't know how long I've been wanting to tell you this."

His father needed to tell him something? What was it? It sounded important, what with his father pulling away to look him in the eye. What could it possibly be that his father had been waiting so long to tell him?

"What is it, Dad?" he prompted.

"What have I told you about getting yourself trapped in alternate plains of existence?" his father demanded.

Huh?

"If I told you once, I've had to tell you a million times! Don't you get trapped in alternate plains of existence! You are grounded mister!"

Looked like his mother _had_ told him.

"Grounded?" he gasped out.

"That's right, grounded! Go up to your room!" his father ordered, fully pulling away from him to stand up straight, an arm pointing at the stairs to emphasize his point.

"But Dad! I didn't mean to get trapped in an alternate plain of existence!" he protested.

"Oh, now you're sorry! Well it's too late for that! Go up to your room!" his father issued his order.

Butters sighed, knowing there was no way he could talk himself out of this one.

"Yes, sir."

He should have stayed in the Friend Zone.


End file.
